Round and sweet
Neatly framed
With cropped
Gray hair
As I passed by
The corner
Breakfast table
Where she sat
With her son
Or grandson
Our eyes met
She returned
My smile
Frail and quiet
Head tufted
With remnants
Of white hair
As I passed by
The corner
Where he sat
In a cardboard box
Turned bed
Surrounded by
Carefully placed
Blankets and pillows
Our eyes did not meet
I wish they had
That we had
Shared a smile
I dared not stare
What is your favorite color? Perhaps the most asked question of childhood.
You meet a new friend on the playground. What is your favorite color? Drawing a picture in art. What is your favorite color?
My answer is blue. I’m not sure it has always been blue. It seems I remember short periods of loving pink and purple. But now, it is blue.
A beautiful blue sky. My dad’s blue eyes. Waters flowing through lakes, rivers, streams. And of course, the ocean.
The varieties in shades of blue amaze me. I was reminded why on a recent drive down the Pacific Coast Highway.
Looking out over ocean views, I could see the color-changing lines in the water. A perfect separation, as if someone had painted one section then the next. And those blues continued as far as the eye could see, until finally meeting the blues of the sky.
Yes, blue is my favorite color. What is yours? 💙
Following
The line
In search of
Sustenance
We entered
Honey Honey Cafe
Constant hum
Of workers
Buzzing
Behind
The counter
May I help you?
Yes, I
Would like
Pancakes
With
Strawberries
Words stuck
Between
My ears
Sluggish
Exiting my mouth
Excuse me?
Pancakes
And
Strawberries
We sit quietly
In the center
Of this hive
Observers
Partakers
Gathering
Sweet fuel
Before following
The line back
Out the door
Into the city
Gentle ferns
Brightest green
Soft clover
Delicate
White lines
A perfect carpet
For majestic
Residents
Red trunks
Growing
Standing
For hundreds
Of years
Though roots
Are shallow
Strength comes
When each
Intertwines
With the next
Building
A foundation
Stretching
From carpeted floor
Rising
Thru drifting fog
Reaching
Toward the sun-
Enter quietly
Muir Woods National Monument Mill Valley, CA 💚
Imagining
Rolling hills
Once covered
In grass and dirt
Graced
With trees
And fields
As far as
One could see
Now paved
Rolling hills
City streets
Perfectly lined
With building
After building
Architectures
New and old
Juxtaposed
To create
An endless
Visual puzzle
Architectures
As varied
As the languages
I hear while
Waiting in a line
For breakfast
City of diversity
In every sense
I’m captivated
And caught
Between
Wonder
And Grief
Marveling at
All that surrounds
While walking
Down sidewalks
So many call home
My husband and I are spending a few days in San Francisco. Streets built on rolling hills makes for interesting walks.
Our adventure is just beginning. Here are a few pictures. What a fascinating city. I’m excited to experience more.
Notes
Rests
Sound
Silence
Working
Together
To make music
Pleasing
Not only
To the ears
But also
Body, mind, soul
And yet,
One key
Element
Is often
An afterthought-
Silence
If not
Savored
Disappears
Transposing
Sweet melody
To mere noise
Leaving
No time
To breathe
No time
To sing
Cool summer morning
Pleasant surprise
Family of birds
Playing happily
In a nearby tree
Begins to circle
The sky in flight
Darting up
Dashing down
Dancing together
Like children
In a game of
Ring around the Rosie
Upon their return
To the safety
Of familiar branches
The welcoming tree
Like a wise grandmother
Rocking on the porch
Shakes with laughter
At their homecoming
Knowing they will not
Live with her forever
Especially
The young ones
For soon, they will
Find their own mates
Build their own nests
Perhaps in
A nearby tree
Perhaps not
For now, she accepts
The importance
Of protecting
While preparing
For the day
They fly away
Hopefully
Another lovely
Pleasant surprise
Cool summer morning
A simple
Solitary
Seed
Of doubt
Sewing stitches
Choking roots
Once confident
Threatening
Downward
Spiral
Second-guessing
Simplest decisions
Sense of dread
Starting
In the brain
Slowly shifts
Stomach
Tied in knots
Realization
Anxiety has
Once again
Crept in
Recognizing
Is step one
Clipping stitches
Step two
Freeing roots
To stretch
And grow
Crushing
The doubt
Regaining
Confidence
Whether the tiniest reason or no reason at all, anxiety just shows up some days. Sharing helps. You never know who may be able to relate. Be encouraged. ❤️
I like macaroni and cheese. In high school, that and baking a cake were the extent of my cooking. My mom even entered a recipe on my behalf for a church cookbook one year. Not a cake. Oh no, it was the instructions from the back of the Kraft macaroni and cheese box.
My kids also like mac-n-cheese. It was a staple in our house. Of course, I always tried to pair it with broccoli or green beans. Balanced meals, you know.
Some stories need to be remembered. Told over and over. Handed down from one generation to the next. And not just the ones considered to be pleasant. Also, the challenging ones. Those are the ones that show resilience, teaching valuable lessons.
This is one of those stories. And, of course, it involves macaroni and cheese.
My parents have always been hard workers. But like many others, hard work did not always keep hard times at bay. Some years were more difficult than others. And when I was little, money was tight.
My dad was a carpenter and was working on a house about an hour away from our home. One day, mom and I went along for the ride. Well, sort of. You see, he had not yet gotten paid for his work.
Macaroni and cheese…they had one box left. So, we went with him, taking the box along with us. While dad was working, mom cooked the mac-n-cheese on the job site in an electric popcorn popper. That way, all three of us would have something to eat for lunch.
That same day, the woman that owned the property retrieved a frozen chicken from her kitchen. And though my dad was a little uncertain about that chicken, it went home with us that afternoon, along with his paycheck. It was available that day after work.
Perhaps some would think of this as a sad story. Not me. I see the resilience of two people, able to keep going, making the best out of a difficult situation.
Anytime we talk about this time in our lives, Mom always reassures me. “No matter how hard things got, we always made sure you did not go without. You always had what you needed.” Without a doubt. ❤️
Truth is, not only did we survive as a family, but we also thrived! And though my cooking skills have improved a little, I still like macaroni and cheese.
Piano Girl 