The other day I read an article about sound and how it alone of the five senses actively happens to me. All the other senses I initiate. I choose to experience them, or not. I can close or avert my eyes, plug my nose, and refrain from eating and touching. But even if I cover my ears I cannot prevent the sound waves from hitting my body, from penetrating my skin.

What joy to wake up on a cold winter’s morning

And look out the window to see a world baptized white!

A wonderful silent snow has fallen while I slept in the night.

And the day that I thought was just regular, is no longer so.

It’s now beautiful, exciting and sparkling like a jewel -

I just want to go to bed…

Today I was thinking about the word gossamer. It’s not a word that is used much. Usually it describes something ethereal like the wings, hair, or clothes of an angelic or fabled being.

As I walked out the sun-dappled driveway a sparkling gossamer web from the overnight industry of a spider

As I drove north the cloudless sky was a moody expanse of rich dark gray. Beneath the sky in magnificent silhouette was the beautiful collage of trees showcasing their autumnal glory of rich reds, burnt oranges, and bright yellows interspersed with various shades of green.

Buoyant. Such a cheerful word.

You begin to feel lighter just saying it.

Sunlight, warmth, inviting turquoise water.

I am walking in sun-soaked sand,

And swimming in sparkling azure water.

I am a winter-weary traveler

I love sunny summer days of bright blue skies, clear mountain views, and sunlight dancing on waves.

The park appeared to be ready for a picnic; nature having spread a glorious, soft blanket of dandelions so profuse they were practically obscuring the grass. It was a delight to walk amidst them. I noticed a mother and small child sitting in the middle of the field, each filling a basket with the sunny blooms.

There’s something in the air, but we’re OK - it’s all over there.
The numbers are terrible, oh what have they done?
When and how had it begun?
But they are all locked in, contained - over there.
We flip the channel and continue, unaware.

I had never given much thought to ink. It was just something that existed. Messy. Ignoble. Permanent. What I had been thinking about was music.

The other day my eyes were drawn magnetically skyward, for the glorious sun was shining, turning the sky a brilliant blue. Days of sunshine are far and few between in our cold snowy winters so when the sun is out I cannot help but walk face upturned reveling in the warmth I can feel, my skin infusing with much needed vitamins and breathing deeply of the crisp air.…

We live in a world of such frenzied activity. It seems we were placed on this spinning globe to continue our own spin through life while that circular constant, the clock, fluidly moves endlessly around and around organizing and compartmentalizing our spin through the day…