My journal of big words and pretty pictures
"It was only a duck pond, at the back of the farm." Standing in the middle of the packed-dirt lane, his demeanor said more than his words. If he made that benign assertion often enough, people would believe him, or he would believe it too. Old folks, like Miz Rose, swore there was a prehistoric … Continue reading Duck pond
Seeing it among other handcrafted wooden boxes displayed at the bazaar kiosk, Lukas knew it was not what it seemed. Squeezing through the crowd, he pretended to examine other souvenirs to draw attention away from the box. When the booth owner began loudly bargaining with another customer, he picked up the small box. Heavier than it … Continue reading Think outside the box
In the spring, when the days grow longer and the reawakening sun melts away the bitter cold of winter, yellow poppies bloom. There, at the junction where the tree line of an ancient stand of long needle pines form a fertile triangle with the sandy marsh trail and the bayou shore, is where I buried … Continue reading Permafrost
After long days of dirty dishes and smelly laundry, piles of pet hair clinging to every surface and equally frustrating piles of bills, the weekend couldn't arrive fast enough. Before the sun rose on that summer Saturday morning, she was dressed and packed. The night before she filled a cooler with bottled water and Gatorade. … Continue reading Other side of the door
There was no sense of time, it could have been noon as easily as midnight. The only difference was the way the air felt. Daylight was line-dried cotton, still warm from the sun. Crisp, yet soft to the touch. It smelled of lilacs and lavender, and sugar cookies. There was laughter and hugs, birdsongs and … Continue reading Midnight tea
Thin spiral notebook 