Posts in Life
On Writing

Good writing requires time to taste. It begs for fine china and grandmother’s silver and low lighting and most importantly, time - time to read and taste the flavor and to feel the texture of each word.  Most written works these days can be read while waiting for the light to change or for the receptionist to call your name.  Most works are flavorless, like a meal at a restaurant more known for it’s ocean view or it’s grand ballroom with crystal chandeliers.  Have you ever noticed how so many wedding receptions offer guests lackluster food?

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Inspiration

In today’s world, you are able to surround yourself with whatever you desire. Topics that required great effort to be exposed to twenty years ago have become nearly effortless to experience on a daily basis.  We can thank social media for delivering this right to our palms. Although it can be seen as a distraction...a constant distraction…there is an underlying positive element tangled up in the onslaught of words and images. 

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Haylofts

There is something magical about a hay loft. I am not certain what world we enter upon reaching the top of the ladder, but I know that when I'm there everything else falls away.  It's a peaceful place that calls you to linger.  It sits above the busy action below. I imagine it would be the same if we could sit in clouds, above the hustle and bustle of everyday life.  I love being able to take the time to sit in the hayloft. Every season is so different. Today it is raining and the pinging of the raindrops fall on the metal roof making music which echoes in the indoor while the gurgling of the gutters drones on and on.

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Fairy Dust

This morning as I step out of the barn, done with chores, the sun is still hiding and the deep indigo sky stretches out before me from one horizon to the next. That backdrop gives the stars, still bright and dancing, a stage for their performance not yet finished. I lift my chin to see the constellations stuck to the dome of blue, like window clings wrapped to the curve of the atmosphere.

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Heavenly Changes

Every morning I look to the heavens, ink black and forever deep, like a bottomless sea. Only the stars and planets poke bright holes in the darkness creating the heavenly arch and giving the illusion that they wrap around the earth like a blanket.  My routine each day is the same.  I wake at the same hour and I follow the same path one half hour past waking.  My responsibility to my animals is unwavering, steadfast, and pleasant in its predictability.

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Milestones

  And in the blink of an eye they day has come.  Abby walked briskly down the walk, backpack in place, ready for high school to begin.  Butterflies have set up residence in her stomach, but she is still positive. Her energy sits like an explosion on the head of a pin, controlled and balanced.     As a parent we have the knowledge of what comes next. We can remember those high school years of our own.  So we sit on the roller coaster, this time in the back seat, watching and quietly waiting all summer as the cars make their way up the first hill. 

 

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Old Friend

Driving through Newton on a Thursday morning moving from task to task on my list, I glanced briefly at the oncoming car. And in that instantaneous moment, just a breath of life really, I saw a man driving and his dog standing, front paws between the seats and head next to his owner’s . And in that moment, the man reached up and pulled his dog’s snout over to plant a loving kiss on that soft muzzle. In my mind time stopped; A photo snapped; and I was pulled, as if by the tidal force of memory, back nearly twenty years to the love of my life.

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LifeMichelle Blochdog, friend, past