A luminous prism of apricot light slips passed the curtain. The rising sun draws diagonal patterns ‘cross the room as I awaken on a cold late February morning. I pull the curtain back, and the room pulses with light. Mountains reflect in a watercolor landscape hanging opposite the window where I sit to pen down early thoughts. Traffic slows along Interstate 26 bending and winding northbound o’er the western North.. Read More

There wasn’t a frost. I questioned if my usual jacket and scarf was necessary as I stepped outside, and made my way to the car under a sky swept in hues of early springtime. On days like this I wonder, perhaps the groundhog was right. Just the other day, I read an article listing things that might be planted during winter’s last days. Admittedly I procrastinate a little, knowing we.. Read More

Autumn hues awash in pale blues converge in the southland. Relentless winds impart winter’s chill while the last leaves still cling to near naked branches. Seasons do not quite give up. Instead the page of the calendar turns. Remnants of one season linger long into the other. Frost crystals shine and the drip from the fence line. Brushstrokes of smalt blue and cadmium yellow are broken by sepia shadows. My.. Read More