with neither rhyme nor reason
a sort of blog
Long before I wrote stories, I listened for stories. Listening for them is something more acute than listening to them. I suppose it's an early form of par...
Raku Deer thy number is seven
It changed my life. I saw art then as I wanted to see it. -Mary Cassatt
It is humid. Cool this morning. As if Rain is available but not yet. My weather ap is all gray. Blue means rain. There is no blue. Neither light (mild rain) ...
We have all won our nap spurs.
I am a human Roomba today. I vacuumed for a while. My batteries ran down and I left the vacuum where I stopped. Recharging my batteries on coffee now. The...
The short answer. Anywhere. I am trying to get back to being a writer. taking notes. scatching things down on scraps of paper. talking into my phone. I rare...
Good morning painted bunting! A painted punting came to get water by my house this morning. Quick, furtive, and beautiful. My eye knew it was different befor...
“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale -...
Thank you Bob and Betsy for emotional support and Cleve for the naming
the sun also rises on yesterday's rain now old glistening silver on wire grass lying in repose
To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few. -Emily Dickinson
my phone does not recognize me
a red bug in the wild
art and friends.