Beyond the front windows of the cottage, the evening sky slowly shifted hues, fading from soft blue to a purple shawl of silk wrapped around the gracefully spiraling arms of the Grandmother Monterey cypress. On the table nearby, a pair of golden beeswax tapers flickered and danced with flame as I sat silently, listening to the music.
(This piece was written months ago but never posted. I guess I shared something else that week that seemed more relevant at the time. Friday night, however, this called to me to be offered forward. So be it.) Like the windy night outside, my dreams have been turbulent and unsettling, a murky river swirling as it tumbles down the
I heard a thrum of wings behind me and turned to see a Western scrub jay atop the tall, wooden front gate. “Hello, lovely,” I smiled, and continued with my Qigong practice, barefoot on the cool red bricks. For a moment he sat there, observing, possibly looking for the dogs, then flew just over my
Elsewhere in the northern hemisphere summer is arriving, yet beyond these walls I encounter only a realm of cool, swirling mist as I open the front door in the early morning. It has not rained in over a month, yet the wooden boards of the deck glisten darkly like smoky glass and the marine air is