She was out of place at the convenience store Subway. I saw her sit down at a tall bar stool table inside.
She wasn’t eating, but had a small Styrofoam cup of coffee that she wasn’t drinking.
Her silver blue hair was perfect, in every way, and she was wearing her Sunday best dress complete with a little pearl necklace and old fashioned black, block heel dress shoes.
She was tall and slender, and her glasses seemed to be part of her face, like they’d been there for years. Continue reading Déjà Vu
The road is icy and what little moonlight there is hides behind deep, dark clouds and ominous sky. It’s midnight, and although the temperature is below freezing, the harsh, rushing north wind makes it seem colder by the minute.
The wipers swipe the windshield, back and forth, back and forth. Part rain, part snow, part sleet strikes the glass as if it were an all out assault. The heater blows on high, and even with a coat, gloves and extra socks, nothing keeps up with the bone chilling cold outside.
Like an impending doom, the cold surrounds the body and car trying to overtake both driver and machine to remove all heat, and movement, from both. Continue reading Down The Road
A couple of weeks ago on a road up Mt. Ranier in Washington state, our group stopped at a roadside area. We explored and found a waterfall that draws you in like a bee to nectar.
Nature’s charm began to mesmerize me from mind to the deepest part of the soul.
No thoughts. No worries. No concerns.
Roaring water sang a magical tune that dropped its spell over the heart. Rushing water crashing on rocks below washed the present away to expose a taste of eternity.
For two minutes in a public place I was hypnotized in a private world for what seemed two hours. No one was around, but people were everywhere. Continue reading A Peace in a Piece of Water
I bought a bust on clearance at Hobby Lobby. At 90% off I snatched the last one up like a large mouth bass after a Carolina rig.
It wasn’t until I got home that I realized my new purchase was damaged at the shoulder. In fact, it had a really big hole in it. At first I started to leave it like it was because looking straight at it, you couldn’t see anything wrong. But turn it ever so slightly, and there was the gaping hole.
With a little bit of plastic cement and some poor, ragged patchwork, the hole was fixed, even though it’s obvious it’s been repaired. After a couple of coats of spray paint, it was all the same color and not as blaringly obvious.
Now it’s on my desk in our home office. The pleasant, gently smiling woman looks like all is good, but on close examination, there’s “patchwork” hidden in plain sight. Continue reading People Patchwork
The full moon shines brightly tonight as it catches rays from the sun and reflects light back to this dark side of the earth.
The moon looks warm, even as the temperature drops trying to chase the warmth of life away.
The circle light bulb in the sky is comforting, peaceful, with shadows on the surface. I strain, squinting to see the shadows. It’s too bright to see with eyes wide open, too dark with eyes half closed and somewhere in between, there’s a sweet spot to see the moon shadows.
When shadows come into focus, there are shapes, places, people, even thoughts written in clouds on the blackboard of night. Continue reading In Shadows of the Moon
As a boy I couldn’t wait to get up before the crack of dawn. My Dad and I had a spot we fished about an hour’s drive away and the best time to get there was at dawn’s early light.
He had snacks and peanut butter sandwiches ready. I’d ride shotgun in the old pickup held together by rust and bondo. About the time the sun rose, we’d get to the lake.
Crappie, that’s what we were fishing for, and when they were spawning, we were certain to catch them.
Carefully hooking a live minnow in the back with a big gold rim hook, we’d drop 4 or 5 cane poles and couple of rod and reels.
Looking back, I realize I’d bait the first line I dropped in, but after that, Dad patiently rigged up the rest so I could fish right away. Continue reading Riding Shotgun