17 beats

I watch The Cold Moon track across the night sky and think – it is well named 

My camera roll often serves up the beats and sometimes there are no words.

Light in the dark is a generous gift for this slick and sloppy walk.

Schools closed and roads like skating lanesit’s a quiet Monday walk to work.

May there ever be moments when the light breaks through to mark the way home.

In this age of deconstruction with pieces all tumbled aboutLinus still has it right.

Wasn’t it just yesterday I was teaching him how to ride a bike? 

The filing system for memories does seem a bit random sometimes

The running is good on a snow packed trail under a wide open sky.

Day by daythe story unfoldsas we workand we watchand we hope.

A new blanket of snow sure improves the lighting situation here. 

The market says we’re full speed toward Christmas nowbut my soul feels the wait.

Backyard flowers grace our table at the end of this warm November.

Tonight pages burn and in the flames a stage is set for new stories .

Yikes! There’ll be no need to put on spike shoes for our morning Turkey Trot!

Two days off at the end of a week at the end of a monthare hard.

It takes GEAR to go on a safe, comfortable walk these dark, chilly days.

I walked the long way home so I could watch the 4 pm setting sun.

Playing catch in the backyard on a Sunday afternoonwith this dog.

Wax and wane, ebb and flowaround and aroundand further on we go.

Sometimes the things you thought you knewmelt awayand leave you in the dark.

The life expectancy of a snowman in Anchorage is not long.

Help! he cried to no avail as the heat knocked him back and stole his smile. 

I do smile and admirecharacters I meeton my walk down the street.