Yesterday it rained, gloriously fat splashy drops, and now, the finest globe style snow drifts ever so slowly down, down, down. In an hour, it will be sunny and wonderfully jarring, a typical spring hereabouts.
Again, I let a long time pass between these posts, so short on words am I. Writing is hard when I can’t hear what to say. So, I fill my time with the usual HGTV fare, movies, and books, searching for the perfect story and am mostly, sadly, underwhelmed. The best have been rather old, Stoner, by John Williams, not a pot head story, by the by, instead a vivid tale of an ordinary life. Some Tony Hillerman (definitely not all), with their watercolor renderings of idyllic Southwestern landscapes. Those leave me breathless, and I reread passages, devouring more-like, a harmless drug. Oh, the power of words.
Often my mind turns to darker places, and I let my heart rest a moment there before lifting a prayer for better days. Tulips and crocus are emerging and tree leaves budding and little joys everywhere I remember to look. Don’t ever forget to look, Colleen!
Alright, back soon….
