WPC: Morning (the lonely chair)
When I first open my eyes upon the morning meadows and look out upon the beautiful world, I thank God I am alive. — Ralph Waldo Emerson
WPC: Morning has broken
Morning has broken like the first morning Blackbird has spoken like the first bird Praise for the singing Praise for the morning Praise for them springing fresh from the world Sweet the rain’s new fall, sunlit from heaven Like the first dewfall on the first grass Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden Sprung…
WPC: details (sectoral heterochromia iridis)
Bright sunshine brings out the details of my sectoral heterochromia iridis (aka my half-n-half eyeball). It’s a rare mutation that only affects about 1% of the population. Some say it’s because I ate my twin in the womb. Others say it’s a sign of royalty. I’m inclined to believe the latter, so I think I’ll…
WPC: Oooooh, what a face (Australian Shepherd)
How could you NOT fall in love with a face like that?!?! This is our oldest Aussie when she was just a pup. She’s a gentle soul and a faithful companion.
WPC: Landscape (Amish country)
“Then followed that beautiful season… Summer… Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.” ~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
WPC: Half-Light (pronounced ‘lĕh-‘nérd ‘skin-‘nérd)
It’s no secret that I’m a die-hard Lynyrd Skynyrd fan. I may be giving away my age by divulging that I spent my early childhood listening to 8-track tapes of the band. Not even a ruler crack across the knuckles, from Sister Innocenta, could break my devotion. Matter of fact, “Sweet Home Alabama” is my…
WPC: harmony (twitter)
Dozens of cedar waxwings made a playground in the ornamental crabapple tree outside my kitchen window. They twittered away in harmony, bouncing from branch to branch, stopping every so often to pick the small, dried fruit.
WPC: state of mind (hopeful)
Mother Nature continues to hem-and-haw about what season it should be – even though the calendar clearly states that is it February. The past few days, again, have been a mix of sleet, freezing rain, and snow followed by an un-seasonal warm-up. Every creature and plant in this area has been in a state of…
WPC: Seasons (the thaw)
Mother Nature is in the midst of a serious seasonal identity crisis in my part of the woods. In the matter of five days, we have experienced a 50+ degree temperature swing, going from -15 degrees below zero, to a balmy 57 degrees and back down to 28 degrees. The waterfalls on the farm don’t know…
WPC: Vibrant (robin’s nest)
‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words And never stops, at all. And sweetest, in the Gale, is heard And sore must be the storm That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm. I’ve heard it in the chillest land And…
BRAmageddon
The bra situation has become desperate lately. Most have lost their powers of containment, and are tenuously hanging on by the last hook and eye. It was time for the “Try and Find a Bra Without Breaking Down in the Fitting Room” annual marathon. Bra shopping is one of my least favorite activities – it’s…
WPC: Circle (summertime sunflower)
As another winter sets in, my thoughts circle back to warm summer days, gentle breezes and the humming of the bees.
Merry Christmas
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight, “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
WPC: Finding extraordinary in the ordinary
Finding extraordinary magic in ordinary days only takes a walk in the woods.
WPC: Happy place (among the cows)
I am happy among the cows… In the fields surrounded by the old stone walls… Listening to the calves beller for their mothers… Looking over the mountaintops… Watching the cows silently graze their way across the pasture. Our farm is my happy place.
The Farmers in the Dell 