Places where we can hear each other
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If only the wind could find me, I would dance
Earlier that day when we were in the clouds
Sometimes I can’t believe this all exists
“Comparison is the thief of joy.” FDR
It’s easy to forget that each of us feels like we are the center. Each has their own story running, full of challenges and successes.
My daughter is learning about fibers in school. How delightful that we tossed some spilled flax seeds on a garden bed. She got to take some into school
5 years ago I gathered one small corm from a front yard. Finally blooming and sprouting many babies this spring.
Sometimes it’s better to let a little moss grow on you.
In the small, intimate cup of each and every flower, important things happen.