every branch was made big with wind while we sat diminished hunkered down with steaming cups, muddied boots, cold-red cheeks, together beneath that orange tarp cracking with every gust we stayed, shivered, laughing while others fled the storm - a splendid day, my splendid friend © Sarah Whiteley
the small-birds have finally found the window feeder and the dogs are enthralled with their sudden proximity we are well, though feeling the spring in our bones - that gentle eruption debuts a new brand of restlessness the boards of the porch have been too damp for comfortable reading, and coffee for now is confined … Continue reading writing home
today I would trade my squelchy shoes and sodden self for warm dogs and ticking radiators, steaming mugs of freshly brewed, nearly obscenely creamed coffee - there's even, I think, a donut on the kitchen counter with my name on it saying stay in! but instead it's frizzled hair, unending responsibilities, and rain that managed … Continue reading squelchy Monday
CONTEST AND COMMENTS NOW CLOSED! Here we are, at the barest edge of the fall season (at least in this hemisphere) and what could be better when the weather turns than sitting next to an open window with a nice hot cup of coffee, wrapped up in a something soft and cozy, reading a book … Continue reading Giveaway! Giveaway! Giveaway!
I've placed a bench beneath the trees at the bottom of the hill here I can watch all the world but you walk by but I've got hot coffee and the breeze talking through the leaves missing is only missing when you feel it, just like rain is only rain when it's falling down and … Continue reading missing is only missing
this morning the rain had let up just long enough during the night that I was able to make my way down the walk without worrying how deep the next puddle too wide to leap would be half a block ahead of me walked a man whose dark jacket folded him into the gloom but … Continue reading the morning commute
the leaves have dropped burnt out finally after the last conflagration and the fog drifts in most mornings now a shroud for ashen skies hangs about sometimes until noon even days like this call for extra cups of coffee with an extra spoon of sugar - something hot and sweet to cup chilled hands about … Continue reading talismans
you have mermaid hair, as he pours my coffee and the scent of salt and sea surprises earthy café as if just now I recall the slide into the quiet cool beneath the languid lying amidst the silver flashes of fishes, the surge and sway of sea and kelp and calm the forgotten fins and … Continue reading mermaid hair