Featured
We drove east through the early morning and the traffic. As we passed by the dirt and the angels of downtown I made a mental visit to the Avila Adobe
I arrived in the land of the ‘master of the macabre’ quite by chance and without any roadmap whatsoever.
Stalked by an insomniac night, I flee into the greedy clutches of the sun-filled morning.
Sitting beside our slumbering hound, wrapped in a cocoon of peaceful warmth, we while away the hours
From busy to quiet in the blink of an eye, planes carried the men of the house to far away destinations yesterday.
Our son is home from university during his Easter vacation, and the house is full once again these days.
The morning has dawned, soft and full of yearning, and I steal myself away into a moment of solitude.
I discovered Wilfred Owen and his poem Dulce et Decorum Est as a school girl in an English classroom long ago on a sunny afternoon.
We went walking on the beach this afternoon at the close of a getaway snatched from the jaws of everyday time.
The shades of life’s colours as it paints its vanishing way around us have been much on my mind these days.
The day dawned blue bright as I stepped outside for my morning walk. The sun’s warm embrace, filtered through the breeze, kissed my face