Father’s Day has come and gone, and I find myself still thinking about my father. He has been gone for almost 41 years, yet there is hardly a day goes by when I don’t remember something about him.
Twilight trails dusky fingers across the land tonight, cooling the edges of the sun-scorched day and bringing night to the hills once more. There is a definite note of fall felt in the air now, reflected
We awoke to snow covering our home in the hills, but the sun comes out sporadically and tries in earnest to melt it. There are bare spots showing now, but the air is still quite cold. The songbirds
The sun is trying valiantly to peek out this morning, after several days of rain. This month has behaved in true February fashion, with soggy ground and plenty of rain. The yard looks bare and forlorn;
Winter hit our hills with a vicious blow this past weekend, after we were used to the mild, although rainy, days of the past few months. It began with the snow and ice that covered our hills and highways,
A heavy frost covered the ground this morning, sparkling in the approaching sunlight that is beginning to bathe our hills. I am reminded of Mom’s remarking on a frost such as this, “It looks like
I can still see him coming down the hill from the Ball Diamond carrying a bouquet of wild flowers that
The garden in my mind does grow.
I look outside to blinding white,
And see my tulips blooming bright.
And over there a sweet carnation,
Softly scents my imagination.
On this cold and freezing day,