Winter roars…

Unlike years past with their lingering warm weather, this year winter has come. There’s been no tip-toeing or dilly-dallying about it. One day it was warm and the next there was a blast of rain and wind that as much as said, “Fun’s Over! Bundle up!”

Now, the trees are all but bare and the wind blows cold, sending whirlwinds of leaves that scrape and skitter across the paved surfaces, chattering against each other.

My best to all, and especially to Ms Buffy. Bundle up, my friend, and protest those hands!

Happy Sunday…

Chapter 23 – Prodigal’s Passage


Full Throttle…

Has been the velocity of my life, these days. That is not a good thing for me and not conducive to writing. Here’s hoping big things settle and small things become less pressing.

My best hopes your days are more harmonious.

My Heart to Ms Buffy and her fellow residents of Pittsburgh. There is no depth to the sadness I feel.

Chapter 22 – All Paths Lead

The Company of Women

There is a freedom that is found when a woman travels in the company of women. That is not to say that being among women is a judgment-free zone, far from it, but the judgments we place are about who we are, not what we are. We may carp about the one who tries too hard to please or the one who takes too many selfies, but mostly, we talk about the ways we can help and support each other. We worry about the relationship that is toxic or the aging among us. Wordlessly, we reach with our many hands to help prepare group breakfasts. As a tribe, we slow steps to make sure no one of our number walks alone. We hold our complaining when the wind bites cold and we break into unscripted, silly song, laughing as girls, knowing is doesn’t matter that hair is windblown and clothes are muddy. We are free to be ourselves with others who feel the same.

It is a gift that one gives oneself. I heard someone say you can’t trust a woman who doesn’t have women friends, and although there is some part of me that rebels against sweeping statements, there is another part that recognizes the deep wisdom of those words.

I have had best friends who are men. I have good friends who are male, but it isn’t the same. I am sure that for men, they find a similar experience. Gender, I find is a common experience that bonds most closely. It provides a context that rises above mere words. It is a perspective that allows true empathy.

It is my best wish for all of you, that you, too, will find that circle of friends  that allow you to refuel who you are, strong in the knowledge that you are among those who see you as their own.

And now, the chapter. My thanks to Ms Buffy, a woman I am honored to count among my circle. Congratulations to Gyllene (Harlow Layne), the creator of this story’s lovely banner, on releasing her first original work of fiction.

  Chapter 21 – The Gathering of Things

The Magic of Change

It’s a different quality of light that plays through the leaves these days. It seems only a few short weeks ago, the light held that hint of gold. When you looked outside, you knew the air itself would feel rich, carrying the promise of heat and growing things. Now, it’s changed.

The leaves are still green, but the light no longer kisses everything it touches. Rather, it catches leaves, freezing them in its white, unforgiving brightness. It’s as if the sun is revealing them, unawares, and demanding they account for themselves.

The trees that line the ravine I see haven’t started to turn yet. They remain in all their glory, but the texture of their leaves has changed. Where once those leaves folded, flexible and lush, now they move as a piece, waiting for that first strong wind to whip and rip them from branches. Soon, they will give up their green camouflage, revealing their more colorful underpinnings and the motion of change will be revealed as well.

My best to all of you. Thank you to my special friend, Ms Buffy. I hope this change of season is kind to you.

Thank you – Natsgirl

Chapter 17 – It Turns