The Garden

There is a patch of earth that lies fallow all winter. I pass the plain brown dirt on my daily path. Every year I await signs of spring, one of which is the tilling of The Garden. The covering of dull dirt is a disguise for the rich soil beneath. When painstakingly turned, the deeper … Continue reading The Garden

Sweet Dreams

In my dreams, Mom is either talking and sharing wisdom or lost and unreachable. There is no in between. As a life-long dreamer I have become a student of my dreams. Some, I write off to whatever I had for dinner the night before. Others contain insights and perspectives I have never considered before. Some … Continue reading Sweet Dreams