Tag: NaBloPoMo

jetty and seagulls

Wayward gulls

More of Andrew's story... A handful of breadcrumbs cast in the air brought a screech of gulls swooping down on the jetty. The birds always congregated on the narrow finger of shells and sand that jutted out into the bay feasting on mussels and tiny hermit crabs, and scraps from tourists and fishermen. Nori zipped ...

30 days hath November

It's that time of year. The month of November has been the catalyst for many writers to hunker down and finally write that Great American Novel. Yeah, that's not going to happen here. I am attempting the November NaBloPoMo, but not the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I've done the novel writing thing a few ...

colorful toys on the beach

Best summer day

Summer beach time... warm, soft sand; hot, lulling sunshine; cool, ocean breezes; invigorating, saltwater; good food; good drinks; great friends; fun conversations; naps... the best kind of Sunday.

sunset at beach pavilion

Ebb and flow

Some evenings when I am gifted with a brilliant end to my day, I can almost hear the sun sinking into the ocean with a muted hiss, or perhaps more of an 'ahhhh...' Like slipping into a warm tub, to soak away worries and stress. Alone on the beach, sharing the spectacle with only the ...

car lights on bridge at sunset

Only a fellow-traveler

“I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead - ahead of myself as well as you.” ~ George Bernard Shaw  

writing spider web

Writing is on the web

Itsy was in trouble… again. Sitting in the academy headmaster’s outer office, she kept dodging the disapproving glare of Miss Muffet. Rumor had it that the old crone had been a fixture of the private school since the reign of Old King Cole. Shifting on the tattered tuffet, Itsy was sure that the uncomfortable seating ...

BP Deepwater oil slick

Yellow slick

I tried telling people that the bruises were from my clumsiness, or that I merely bruised easily. No one believed me. The tiny, evenly spaced, purple ovals, the exact shape of an angry fingertip, erupted on my arms regularly, often with the previous alien markers not completely faded alongside the newer ones. As a child, ...

broken truck windshield

Window cracked

They say that I am broken, like the window in my old truck. Cracked, shattered, fractured into so many pieces I will never be whole again. But, they are wrong. A chip here and there, hardly makes me ruined. I have character. I have Kintsugi. My scars make me beautiful. They are hieroglyphs that tell ...

pine seedling growing from dead tree stump

A force of nature

“Nature has given women so much power that the law has very wisely given them little.” ~ Samuel Johnson When every thing is taken from us, when our lives are a barren wasteland, when all seems lost... still we rise. Our roots run deep, our will is indomitable, our spirit is indestructible. We will rise ...