Ready to Make Friends with Poetry? ⟶
There is no more beautiful place to live this time of year (IMHO) than the Pacific Northwest. Last year I posted ‘hunting for red….’ Again, I’d like to share some of the beautiful Fall colors my Father has painted for us…….. Maple tree next door blueberry bush–end of season Cotoneaster berries a stand of maples…
The brace is there right next to my bed, the last thing I take off at night and the first thing I put on in the morning. It bothers me that I need it. I don’t like being reminded of my weakness. I slip my left thumb into the hard plastic support. With the extra…
Ah, there’s the rub, eh? The hubris of the know-it-all mind that deludes itself into thinking “if one knows, why one can manage” and if we were all experts life as we know it wouldn’t quite creep up on us with such malicious surprise. Raindrops are nicely contained in a new copper rain gutter but…
photo by Leah M. Johnson My daughter and I are at Seattle Center on the bright kind of fall day that makes colors pop, where the air feels soft and people are quiet as the rustling leaves. After a walk around the fountain, through the garden past the Chihuly glass and along the Pavilion, we’re…
These entries are a sporadic series of posts in response to a remarkable book that I read and journaled through in 2013–“God in the Yard” by LL Barkat. It is about slowing and seeing and Sabbath. You can order it here. ~~~~~~~~~~~ I am getting better at listening to that still, small Sunday voice that…
my perennial bed I drag my green plastic chair across the lawn out to the garden. The orange bucket is upended and covered with an old towel–my ‘end table.’ I place my fresh cup of warm coffee on top and settle in with my camera over my shoulder. I am waiting for the hummingbird. I’ve…