My complaints are old and tired, like my favorite hiking shoes. Bought against my sister’s wishes. Now tattered and torn, ripped and unhinged, they are ready for the trash.
Those shoes supported me.
If they don’t work any more ~ toss them.
Mama needs a new pair of shoes.
Water to Water ~ Sand to Sand
We were all nervy with an unspoken anticipation. We were accelerating toward something and we didn’t know what. Geek Love – Katherine Dunn
It’s safe to say that they were moving towards the grave, these long-gone ancestors of mine. In 1962, speed had a different connotation. It was the pace of a powder blue Impala, crossing long, low bridges, over deep, dark waters, heading south to Orangedale. The glide of a push button Dodge Dart, maneuvering the Trout River Bridge. And a big, black-house Mercury, lumbering through the neighborhood, to pick up Nell, who inched her way down the stairs of a Riverside, garage apartment. Continue reading Four Sisters
I walked yesterday morning to a spot, that I calculate daily, suspending the morning light; a stratum of pink and peach hues, that veil the mountains, boats and sea. This photo, in no way, exhibits what I see. Soon, I will try another angle.
I will love the light, because it shows me the Way. ~ me and Og
The circle of life. Rafa is the one I’m passing this sport on to. Yes, I hired a coach for him. Carlos, from AllDREAMSURFSCHOOL. My hope is he will love it as much as I do. From the way it looks, I believe he does. Even though he doesn’t speak English and I don’t speak Spanish (fluently) we share a language; the love of the ocean.
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