The sunlight dazzles my eyes so they ache deciphering black words on a white page. Like other things we love, it can hurt.
That’s a phrase I use a lot… A transition. Or braking to shift gears, or make a turn…
The future was bright and my possibilities endless. Yes, the world looked different when I was nine, but I was figuring things out.
A pileated woodpecker makes his presence known, chortling over the carriage house. Like a cat, I follow the languorous patch of sunlight. This is the moment I’m living. Are you living your moment?