The Northern Lights dance above white-capped mountains in Iceland. Although my story takes place in the U.S., I spent the day writing about a beautiful mountain range. Continue reading “The Road to Whiteface Mountain” →
Opening Not every yard has a garden, Neatly mulched, lined in stone, Sprinkled with seeds And sprouting roses. Where you’ll find gardens, You may find a peace bloom. It’s tall and it’s orange and it’s — Late to blossom. Revealed under the goddess of dawn, It draws inward at dusk, Until caught in the frost, […]
When we’re weighed down by fear and anxiety, it’s too easy focus on the danger of open doors.
Remember Friday the 13th? The only thing worse than an unlucky Friday is an unlucky Monday.
Change is on my doorstep. She’s been there for some time, promising to push with gale force winds and flood the foundations if I don’t let her in.