Yesterday, we visited Johnstone’s Kiddie Park in Bartlesville, OK. We took our oldest son there when he was little, and now it was his daughter’s turn.
Some things had changed, mostly cosmetically. However, the idea of a fun and inexpensive family outing (tickets are 75 cents) remains.
Watching our granddaughter brought back sweet memories of her dad at that age. And now we have more to add to that precious file of good days.
Rushing out the door,
I noticed my sweet, silly cat
stretched out like a pile of
pulled-apart cotton balls.
Driving to work,
I saw a once fluffy cloud
rolled out across the blue sky.
Reminded me of my cat.
Perhaps I need to unroll, stretch.
Not just my body, but also
my head and my heart.
Remaining too long
curled in a fetal position,
Though somewhat comforting,
is counterproductive.
Touch my toes.
Reach my hands skyward.
Lie flat on my back, eyes closed.
Smile or cry, whichever is needed.
Smile and cry at the same time.
That’s my favorite.
Ask for forgiveness.
Say I’m sorry.
Say I love you.
Slow down and stretch.
Not a cloud in the sky.
Yet, a heavy haze
held the morning.
Unhelpful. Especially when
my brain also feels foggy.
If only I were still sleeping.
However, sleep is not
a likely solution.
There is rarely a
single solution anyway.
Some days are just like this.
My heart is grateful for
family and friends.
My head is unsure how
to process the melancholy.
Seems counterintuitive
to wish for a cloud.
But if a fluffy cloud means
A lifted haze
A bluer sky
A spark of imagination
Then I will keep searching.
Looking out every time
I pass a window.
I have never seen
a blue so pale, barely blue.
Blurring the lines
between sky and cloud.
Still blue, only subdued.
The mood emanating from
those muted hues
is quite opposite from
this morning’s bird songs.
Playful conversations
I could only observe,
no matter how closely
I listened. Smile-inducing,
even without understanding.
Perhaps there’s a lesson
in the comparison.
Pale blue-an accurate description
of my current mood.
Playful conversations-an indication
of future possibilities.
An intriguing coexistence.
We walk down the sidewalk.
Our shadows lead the way.
This time, we walk with our shoes on.
Not my preference,
But the cement is hot
from the midday sun.
It would surely burn
your little feet.
Strange, how your shadow
makes you look older-
Mine only makes me look taller.
Interesting companions, our shadows.
They seem to listen as you chatter.
Your sweet voice echoes against
the neighbor’s fence.
Do you see your shadow? I ask.
But you keep walking
and chattering and laughing.
Oh, to be innocent again,
paying no attention to those shadows.
Your only concern?
Walking, chattering, and laughing
in the bright summer sun.
Yes, I am aware.
Some details are missing.
Try to see the bigger picture.
That sounds logical, at first.
As if acceptance makes it easier
to continue down my path.
But then I notice the
smallest of wonders.
From the edges of a nest,
straw is poking out where two wooden
beams are nailed together.
A mother bird is sitting quietly on her eggs.
Seeing the big picture is impossible
without consistently returning
to the small moments.
The fuzzy head of a nestling
is barely seen from the ground.
The nest is crowded with fledglings
almost ready to fly.
Each tiny step in nature, somehow,
a reflection of my life.
I don’t want to miss even the tiniest feather.
I study the image, moving
past flashy first impressions
to the combination of
smooth surfaces and fine lines.
Flecks of light reflecting
from the deepest crevices.
Curious about what events
heightened these characteristics.
Both the expected natural
occurrences and
the unavoidable extremes.
Relief in a cool breeze.
Peace glistening in the snow.
Heartbreak felt in a flash flood.
A grief-induced drought.
Passion flowing from a waterfall.
It’s curious how the
careful consideration
of an unusual pillar of rock,
sitting peacefully
in the middle of rushing water,
gently nudged me to consider my reflection more carefully.
Circus-like music follows
a brief safety announcement.
Like magic, the ride begins to spin.
Music fades as laughter grows.
Waiting in line, I notice
Intricately carved horses,
ornate benches, a tiger,
even a whimsical giraffe!
This rider is not a child.
But for a few minutes, a child at heart.
Temporarily transported to childlike days.
Days when playful innocence
served as a protective shield
against the weight of the world.
If you happen to pass by
a carousel, hop on!
And if it happens to have
your favorite animal,
no other choice will do!
When researching things to do in Spokane, Washington, the Looff Carousel caught my eye. Dating back to 1909, its beautiful wood-carved animals stand in a perfect circle. Patiently waiting for their next rider.
When the opportunity arrived, I hesitated. Would I feel silly riding a carousel by myself? Maybe a little, but it was worth it! And by the way, the giraffe is my favorite animal. 😉🦒
The sound of water
rushing over rocks-
A demonstration of power.
An offering of peace.
Where does one end?
Where does the other begin?
What is the source?
Is it the water? The wind?
What about the rocks?
Unmoving, they tolerate
the rushing water.
Over time, the water smoothes
their rough edges.
And the wind? It freely carries
their story of transformation.
Listen. Can you hear their song?
A message of determination, finding
Peace in the middle of chaos.
Can you hear your story in theirs?
Riverfront Park-Spokane, Washington 💙
Above or below, a scene unfolds.
Questions are a necessity.
Are those white frothy peaks
On wind-tossed waters?
Is that a tundra covered in snow?
Are those mountains in the distance?
Or simply a bank of storm clouds?
I see them from below almost every day.
Viewing from above offers new perspectives.
It requires engineering and mechanics.
Logic combined with wonder and awe.
Below, I stand firmly on the ground.
Above, I fly, unsure of my place.
Above or below, a scene unfolds.
Questions are a necessity.
Somewhere over the PNW. 💙🤍✈️
Piano Girl 