Unaware of a squirrel watching my every move —

Rewards that flow two ways — Recently I asked myself “how often do I take the time and make the effort to praise others? Not just my family and friends, but even casual strangers?” The answer was, “Not very often.” Every day I pass up opportunities to say something generous and affirmative to others. People who…

Will wise choices lead to wise actions? — I want to hold on to a thought that occurred to me just before I fell asleep last night. Make Wise Choices. What prompted me to think such a thing? Well, probably because I had made very poor choices all that day. Eating unhealthy, sugar-laden food, getting no exercise, although…

Works both ways — As a cat lover for decades, I can attest there are few pleasures as reliable as petting a purring cat. Cats purr for many reasons. Sometimes cats purr to calm themselves. Sometimes because they are not feeling well. But mostly cats purr because they are contented. When you pet a…

If you know how to read them — Scars are road maps, if you know how to read them. Topographical recollections of bumps in the road. Every scar a lesson in what to avoid, which backroads to skip when and how to disappear. and yet. . . what would life be without detours, without dead ends or sudden flashes…

Hope and Optimism In the Garden —

Appreciating the five senses and heeding the sixth — May you always hear the harp in the trees when the dexterous wind strokes the trembling leaves. May your eyes delight in old stone walls buried under tangled vines and carpets of moss. May you relish the scent of wild grapes in September, their perfume both elusive and teasingly tender. …

The botanical equivalent of “better late than never” — This past June, I planted many annuals in my garden borders, including a morning glory vine of the variety “Heavenly Blue”. Heavenly it is with its sky blue petals, pale white heart, and trumpet shape. …

Although the sea is far away — I can hear the sound of surf, although the sea is far away. The night wind high in the trees is a talented mimic, strumming the autumn leaves like a harpist composing a mournful tune. A surging wave pounds the beach. Sibilant lace laps the sand. No longer do I…