Small Stone #7
Lights alive and moving, red, white, green and some yellow. People out and moving, surprised at how many. Information streams into my car cocoon, coasting along. All at once I hear a familiar name. Tuning in...a report of the death of a beloved public personality. Shock. Sadness. Traffic flows. Tears flow.
Nancy
January 7, 2013
Note:
I met Huell Howser once, very briefly...just long enough for a photograph. It is a memory I treasure. I was so sad to hear of his passing tonight on my way home. You can read of his passing here.
If you are not familiar with him or his work, there is much you can explore here on the web. He was a very special person. That's enough for me tonight.
Showing posts with label Small Stones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Small Stones. Show all posts
Monday, May 22, 2017
Thursday, January 31, 2013
Small Stone #31
Small Stone #31:
The white-brown squares, sprinkled with salt, punctured with 13 tiny holes are just the thing to add some life to my bowl of warm chicken noodle soup as I relax my way into healing.
Nancy
January 31, 2013
*Please note this is my last official "Small Stone". The challenge was for the month of January and since I consider it a huge success to have stuck with it (not my usual style!), I think I'll quit while I'm ahead! Not that I will stop writing, just that I will not hold myself to the daily expectation. Thank you to all who have read along with me!
The white-brown squares, sprinkled with salt, punctured with 13 tiny holes are just the thing to add some life to my bowl of warm chicken noodle soup as I relax my way into healing.
Nancy
January 31, 2013
*Please note this is my last official "Small Stone". The challenge was for the month of January and since I consider it a huge success to have stuck with it (not my usual style!), I think I'll quit while I'm ahead! Not that I will stop writing, just that I will not hold myself to the daily expectation. Thank you to all who have read along with me!
Wednesday, January 30, 2013
Small Stone #30
Small Stone #30:
I poke my head out of the front door and am surprised by the warmth and brightness. After days of sleep and illness, I've forgotten what the world looks like and find myself missing it. Could this be a sign that good health is returning? Time will tell.
Nancy
January 30, 2013
I poke my head out of the front door and am surprised by the warmth and brightness. After days of sleep and illness, I've forgotten what the world looks like and find myself missing it. Could this be a sign that good health is returning? Time will tell.
Nancy
January 30, 2013
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
Small Stone #29
Small Stone #29:
In anticipation, I pause and focus inward. Gathering determination and saliva, I force myself to attempt swallowing. The lump of molten knives squeezes through the narrow passageway, otherwise know as my throat. Glands ache with the effort. I pause, rather breathless, and rest before the need to swallow presents itself again.
Nancy
January 29,2013
In anticipation, I pause and focus inward. Gathering determination and saliva, I force myself to attempt swallowing. The lump of molten knives squeezes through the narrow passageway, otherwise know as my throat. Glands ache with the effort. I pause, rather breathless, and rest before the need to swallow presents itself again.
Nancy
January 29,2013
Monday, January 28, 2013
Small Stone #28
Small Stone #28:
Brilliance slams into illness once again as we drive over to get modern medicine to help me heal. I sink into the car seat , eyes roam the sky scape. Clouds sprinkle the sky. He calls them by name, Culumus, Cirrus, remarking on seeing them together, one on top of the other. I wallow in the light, shadow, starkness, the immense puffiness and silver linings. Dreamer and Science traveling together.
Nancy
January 28, 2013
Brilliance slams into illness once again as we drive over to get modern medicine to help me heal. I sink into the car seat , eyes roam the sky scape. Clouds sprinkle the sky. He calls them by name, Culumus, Cirrus, remarking on seeing them together, one on top of the other. I wallow in the light, shadow, starkness, the immense puffiness and silver linings. Dreamer and Science traveling together.
Nancy
January 28, 2013
Sunday, January 27, 2013
Small Stone #27
Small Stone #27:
I drag myself out into the early morning brightness, convinced I will overcome the feeling of low-grade illness. Layers of clouds suspended over layers of mountainside. Shades of gray float over shades of brown. Back home the patches of blue disappear as the sheets of gray are pulled up tight under the sun's chin, inspiring me to pull up my own blanket and nap on the couch.
Nancy
January 27, 2013
I drag myself out into the early morning brightness, convinced I will overcome the feeling of low-grade illness. Layers of clouds suspended over layers of mountainside. Shades of gray float over shades of brown. Back home the patches of blue disappear as the sheets of gray are pulled up tight under the sun's chin, inspiring me to pull up my own blanket and nap on the couch.
Nancy
January 27, 2013
Friday, January 25, 2013
Small Stone #25
Small Stone #25:
4 black crows perch upon the bare bone branches of the 3 white birch trees. Contrast perfected against the gray, wet sky on the rainy morning.
Nancy
January 25, 2013
4 black crows perch upon the bare bone branches of the 3 white birch trees. Contrast perfected against the gray, wet sky on the rainy morning.
Nancy
January 25, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Small Stone #24
Small Stone #24:
Just beyond the bridge, in the darkness, shadows form. They move together as one. Slowly, across the road. Light shines through a pair of legs, then more...distinguishing the mass as horses led into the night.
Nancy
January 24, 2013
Just beyond the bridge, in the darkness, shadows form. They move together as one. Slowly, across the road. Light shines through a pair of legs, then more...distinguishing the mass as horses led into the night.
Nancy
January 24, 2013
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Small Stone #23
Small Stone #23:
In the empty field, one old large tree stands. Branches, dark pencil lines against the gray winter sky, but the branch tips hold yellow leaves. Autumn's last stand catching what little morning light there is.
Nancy
January 23, 2013
In the empty field, one old large tree stands. Branches, dark pencil lines against the gray winter sky, but the branch tips hold yellow leaves. Autumn's last stand catching what little morning light there is.
Nancy
January 23, 2013
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Small Stone #22
Small Stone #22:
The warm, familiar flavors of vegetable filled lentil soup slide easily down my tired throat. Spoonful after spoonful, mundane really. Until, BAM an invisible jalapeno morsel in the pico de gallo topping explodes in my mouth. Seeing stars through watering eyes.
Nancy
January 22, 2013
The warm, familiar flavors of vegetable filled lentil soup slide easily down my tired throat. Spoonful after spoonful, mundane really. Until, BAM an invisible jalapeno morsel in the pico de gallo topping explodes in my mouth. Seeing stars through watering eyes.
Nancy
January 22, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
Small Stone #21
Small Stone #21:
The soft fibers of the embroidery floss slips between my fingers. Thumbs press on index fingers, holding the strands to stillness. Over, under...in between. Pulling, adjusting, keeping flat. Braiding the threads while the news speaks of this day, weaving thoughts of hope and justice through my mind. Tie a knot, then another...a pause in the braid, a pause in my reflections. My nimble fingers begin the braid again, floating forward into our future.
Nancy
January 21, 2013
The soft fibers of the embroidery floss slips between my fingers. Thumbs press on index fingers, holding the strands to stillness. Over, under...in between. Pulling, adjusting, keeping flat. Braiding the threads while the news speaks of this day, weaving thoughts of hope and justice through my mind. Tie a knot, then another...a pause in the braid, a pause in my reflections. My nimble fingers begin the braid again, floating forward into our future.
Nancy
January 21, 2013
Sunday, January 20, 2013
Small Stone #20
Small Stone #20:
"The leaden eyelids begging for a nap, tip me over on the couch. It is where I stay swaddled in sleep until the bone-like clang of wooden wind chimes stirs me. Slowly eyelids agree to open, only to be pierced by sunlight reflecting off interior appliances. The television, while turned off, screams at me in sharp beams of light. Closing my eyes again does not help, I know the awake world is waiting."
Nancy
January 20, 2013
"The leaden eyelids begging for a nap, tip me over on the couch. It is where I stay swaddled in sleep until the bone-like clang of wooden wind chimes stirs me. Slowly eyelids agree to open, only to be pierced by sunlight reflecting off interior appliances. The television, while turned off, screams at me in sharp beams of light. Closing my eyes again does not help, I know the awake world is waiting."
Nancy
January 20, 2013
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Small Stone #19
Small Stone #19:
The English muffin mountains splay out in front of me, their nooks and crannies dotted with shades of California scrub brush green. Stark, gleaming in the morning sun, causing my eyes to dart and search the shades of sandy colored earth, trying to capture all of the brilliance this view brings.
Nancy
January 19, 2013
The English muffin mountains splay out in front of me, their nooks and crannies dotted with shades of California scrub brush green. Stark, gleaming in the morning sun, causing my eyes to dart and search the shades of sandy colored earth, trying to capture all of the brilliance this view brings.
Nancy
January 19, 2013
Friday, January 18, 2013
Small Stone #18
Small Stone #18:
"Moving from the early morning light to the cool darkness under the freeway overpass, a flash of color catches my eye. Closer I see the stark white cross surrounded by flowers pushing up from the rich earth. Someone's days ended here in the spooky shadowed space beneath freeways. Hearing the rush of cars above, I wonder if this is a recent passing, or have I somehow missed it in my focus on getting to work."
Nancy
January 18, 2013
"Moving from the early morning light to the cool darkness under the freeway overpass, a flash of color catches my eye. Closer I see the stark white cross surrounded by flowers pushing up from the rich earth. Someone's days ended here in the spooky shadowed space beneath freeways. Hearing the rush of cars above, I wonder if this is a recent passing, or have I somehow missed it in my focus on getting to work."
Nancy
January 18, 2013
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Small Stone #17
Small Stone #17:
"An anonymous voice out of the darkness, car radio. Announcement of the 19 year anniversary of a local earthquake. Nineteen years have past since the quake and twenty since another earth shaking event took place. The time since...the 20 years, is longer than the totality of the life event itself. The time past him is now longer than the time with him. Why does this surprise me?"
Nancy
January 17, 2013
"An anonymous voice out of the darkness, car radio. Announcement of the 19 year anniversary of a local earthquake. Nineteen years have past since the quake and twenty since another earth shaking event took place. The time since...the 20 years, is longer than the totality of the life event itself. The time past him is now longer than the time with him. Why does this surprise me?"
Nancy
January 17, 2013
Small Stone #16 (day late)
Small Stone #16:
Eyes closing, slowly. Reopen and then heavy with the day's end, close again. I realize all of the words in my head have remained there. Small Stone, a day late.
Nancy
January 16, 2013
Eyes closing, slowly. Reopen and then heavy with the day's end, close again. I realize all of the words in my head have remained there. Small Stone, a day late.
Nancy
January 16, 2013
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
Small Stone #15
Small Stone #15:
The darkness of the empty road, engulfs me. Small lights, embedded in the asphalt form a track into the tunnel of forward, while thoughts float to the past. Held tight in the moment by edges...where mountain meets roadway.
Nancy
January 15, 2013
The darkness of the empty road, engulfs me. Small lights, embedded in the asphalt form a track into the tunnel of forward, while thoughts float to the past. Held tight in the moment by edges...where mountain meets roadway.
Nancy
January 15, 2013
Monday, January 14, 2013
Small Stone #14
Small Stone #14:
Sailboat moon in the blue-black sky, watching. Leaves and trash skittering across the road in front of me, winds rocking my car back and forth...back and forth on the asphalt sea. Slowing for the all day shadowed spots for fear of ice, driving on a winter's night. Homeward bound.
Nancy
January 14, 2013
Sailboat moon in the blue-black sky, watching. Leaves and trash skittering across the road in front of me, winds rocking my car back and forth...back and forth on the asphalt sea. Slowing for the all day shadowed spots for fear of ice, driving on a winter's night. Homeward bound.
Nancy
January 14, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Small Stone #13
Small Stone #13:
Darting out to an early morning meeting, car waits. Frozen. Sitting inside, engine running...trying to warm-up car and self. Clear, bright sky shines through the frost flowers on the windshield. Wipers slide right over the sheet of frozen night. Waiting. Waiting. Moments later, loud defroster interrupting the serene and melts just enough and I push some slush to the side. Ready to drive.
Nancy
January 13, 2013
Darting out to an early morning meeting, car waits. Frozen. Sitting inside, engine running...trying to warm-up car and self. Clear, bright sky shines through the frost flowers on the windshield. Wipers slide right over the sheet of frozen night. Waiting. Waiting. Moments later, loud defroster interrupting the serene and melts just enough and I push some slush to the side. Ready to drive.
Nancy
January 13, 2013
Saturday, January 12, 2013
Small Stone #12
Small Stone #12:
The rough weave of the brightly colored Mexican blanket rubs against my winter rough fingers, loose skin catching individual threads. Muslin pinned in place, needle stabbing through the layers, the audible poke punctuating the still air as I rhythmically move the long strand of cotton floss from one side to the other. Mind focused, engrossed in the sensory experience...stitching.
Nancy
January 12, 2013
The rough weave of the brightly colored Mexican blanket rubs against my winter rough fingers, loose skin catching individual threads. Muslin pinned in place, needle stabbing through the layers, the audible poke punctuating the still air as I rhythmically move the long strand of cotton floss from one side to the other. Mind focused, engrossed in the sensory experience...stitching.
Nancy
January 12, 2013
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