December 14, 2011


When I moved here almost three years ago, I would drive in different directions on Route 66 just to see where it would take me. Route 66 drops off and picks up at various points in southern California and driving east from my location, it runs smack into the San Bernardino Mountains. It was in that direction I drove one chilly, rainy morning earlier this week and eventually, ended up in a blizzard! I couldn't stay long even at this low elevation without renting snow chains, but it was an unexpected joy to briefly be engulfed in the cold, muffled silence of falling snow.

November 23, 2011


This year was kind of rough but even so, I still have so much for which to be grateful. And I want to extend my gratitude to all of you who have visited, left comments, sent emails, and shared so generously your uplifting and inspiring personal and artistic journeys. Thank You!

May you always walk in Beauty.
~ Navajo Blessing

November 14, 2011

Talking Leaves

Talking Leaves is the name given to the Cherokee written language, or syllabary; a graphic representation of the Cherokee language that took Sequoyah, a Native American silversmith, over twelve years to complete. Realizing its worth, the Cherokee embraced Sequoyah's invention and by 1825, the literacy rate of the Cherokee surpassed that of surrounding European-American settlers. This was the only time in recorded history that a member of a non-literate people independently created an effective writing system.

The name Talking Leaves was a satirical reference regarding the white man's words that "dried up and blew away like leaves."

November 3, 2011

Among the Rocks

Oh, good gigantic smile o' the brown old earth,
This autumn morning! How he sets his bones
To bask i' the sun, and thrusts out knees and feet
For the ripple to run over in its mirth;
Listening the while, where on the heap of stones
The white breast of the sea-lark twitters sweet.
That is the doctrine, simple, ancient, true;
Such is life's trial, as old earth smiles and knows.
If you loved only what were worth your love,
Love were clear gain, and wholly well for you:
Make the low nature better by your throes!
Give earth yourself, go up for gain above!

~ Robert Browning

October 31, 2011

Gone Haunting...

Have a Frightfully Delightful Halloween!

October 27, 2011

Sighs of Autumn Rain

In autumn rain, the grasses rot and die,
Below the steps, the jueming's colour is fresh.
Full green leaves cover the stems like feathers,
And countless flowers bloom like golden coins.
The cold wind, moaning, blows against you fiercely,
I fear that soon you'll find it hard to stand.
Upstairs the scholar lets down his white hair,
He faces the wind, breathes the fragrance, and weeps.

~ Du Fu, volume 216, no. 15 in the Complete Tang Poems, yr. 754

October 13, 2011

October 6, 2011

Sea Fever

I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.

~ John Masefield

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October 1, 2011

Adrift in a Foggy Reflection

Check out reflections by other bloggers at Weekend Reflections hosted by James.

September 13, 2011

When Birds Come Back

These are the days when Birds come back —
A very few — a Bird or two —
To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies resume
The old — old sophistries of June —
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee —
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear —
And softly thro' the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.

Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze —
Permit a child to join.

Thy sacred emblems to partake —
They consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!

~ Emily Dickenson

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