This Morning

this morning i forgave my yesterday self.

this morning i welcome kindness, gentle words and quiet contemplations.

this morning i welcome possibility

both challenging and perfect.

this morning i throw open the curtains, the windows, the entire roof

to all that dreams will do.

this morning, i forgave my yesterday self.

The Whisper of Leaves

This was a particularly good weekend. It was full of homemade soup and bread, shared with family and friends. We worked outside, cleaning up the garden one last time before the snow flies. We spent time creating things and experimenting with art supplies. It seems that November is trying to make a hasty retreat and I just needed a little reminder to stay present and hear the whisper* of the leaves.

{*You know. . .that gentle whispering wind before northwest Ohio turns into a god-forsaken tundra and the wind howls. . .for months. . .}