My journal of big words and pretty pictures
Morning sunlight flooded the room through the open door. Raeanne hummed along with the robin’s birdsong, a haunting melody of loss and dying. "Come, gentle death, and end my grief; Ye pretty birds ring forth my knell; Let robin redbreast be the chief To bury me, and so farewell."* It was a glorious day. The … Continue reading Pretty birds ring
It was actually happening. After all those years of joking about it, Mister finally agreed. I’m not sure if I wore him down, or convinced him it was a good idea. We sold off everything, bought an RV and made plans to travel the U.S. The yard sale was his idea. His way of needling me, … Continue reading Yard sale
Reverently removing his boots, he arranged them neatly beside his bike. The mid-day asphalt was scorching through his socks. As he neared the edge of the precipice, the sea spray blew cold. Sitting on the lip of the cliff, he looked out over the water, squinting in the bright sun. His saddle bag was on the … Continue reading Reboot
My life was short, but sweet. I felt love and comfort, even if at the time, I didn’t realize that was what I was experiencing. There were no words for it then, merely burbles and coos. Before I came here, to this place of light and peace, my conscience mind wasn’t fully developed. I once … Continue reading Infant memoirs
In the spring, daisies bloom where we shared our first kiss, where we used to go to watch the sunset behind the summit. From our lofty perch we could see the city laid out across the hollow formed by the surrounding mountains. As the sun dipped behind the far peaks, lights blinked on in the … Continue reading Where daisies bloom
In a family full of rowdy boys, she was our little angel. Never a whimper, or complaint, she always smiled. Tiny from birth, she looked like a porcelain doll, our perfect little lady. We thought she was the answer to our prayers. We didn't realize the answer instead was, "no."
Thin spiral notebook 