Window Thinking
17 Beats before it was 17 Beats
My life goes on in endless songAbove earth’s lamentations,I hear the real, though far-off hymnThat hails a new creation…… Through all the tumult and the strifeI hear its music ringing,It sounds an echo in my soul.How can I keep from singing? […….] It’s February 10 and I’ve written an American Sentence every single day this …
For days I lament the loss of my long view…..this backyard and snow dog.
It is good to have friends watching out for us in this Alaska life.
Five years makes 20 issues, plus a whole lot of stories in between.
Sometimes I wonder if Ginger can imagine her life without snow.
On we go, mapping our unconventional path to a bright future.
Even after six years moose encounters still startle and impress me. See Also : Just Like Anyplace Else Except…..
Stubby little pencil hanging in the church pew holds a smile for you.
I managed to post 17 syllables to this space every. single. January day. And when I came to the end, I wondered what would happen on February 1? February 1, I posted 17 more. The concept of an American Sentence is rather obscure and though I learned about it in the context of a poetry …
Their distant parking spot did not keep them from skating to the party. 😂
A deep breath….a pause and a clearing, the choice to be right here right now.
Take time to look up from the place where you stand, look out, beyond, and breathe.
I watch the evening fire burn and mark this, another day is done.
When life upends us in sudden, unexpected ways, how shall we live?
Winter colors are fading now in the fast growing light of the day. See Also: Joyfully Living In Maximum Slope >> A glimpse into my first time around on the dramatic run toward the light after deep winter dark And speaking of that deep winter dark: Light that Shines in Darkness.
When the way is dark, cold, and slickery, spikes in my soles for the win.
Finally! A bed I deserve, she says as she snuggles into the night.
Out of the deep cold we rise to put on a shiny new coat of ice.
How does one live when melty mud and shades of grey paint across the view?
A chance encounter at the library reminds me stories matter.
Some days do not offer an obvious sentence with a good photo. The curbside recycling truck did not come today and I don’t know why. I hope that meeting will turn up the puzzle piece I’ve been looking for. For everything there is a season, but what thing was that season for? How big was …
Lace up the skates and cue my courage – I wish I’d learned when I was young!
Tonight I saw a super blood wolf moon eclipse, and thus sings my soul.
The trees are all dressed in rime ice coats and it is glory to behold.