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Winter Wander Land
Nature always listens, but in winter it seems to listen more deeply.
Nature always listens, but in winter it seems to listen more deeply.
When it comes to sub-freezing temperatures, I am the frozen one, thanks to water pipes that chronically freeze.
My America is not the America represented by today’s bitter cold inauguration
“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven.” Ecclesiastes 3:1
“The creation of something new is not accomplished by the intellect but by the play instinct.” — Carl Jung
During June and July, I’ve been out standing in a field – a barley field — paying witness to a wild and wacky world.
No one in my life heard the music of Mother Nature better than my beloved friend, Judy.
There is unbridled potential for the poetic — in everything, even in ourselves.
My father died two months ago. Yesterday, we did a sunrise walk together.
“I want something from Daddy that he is not able to give me . . . .”