One wave at a time…
Faithfully rolling unto the shore
Hitting the rocky bedrock
Bringing healing as I sit and watch.
For hours.
Each time a little piece of hope
Delivered in the rhythm of the waves
Reminds me God is faithful.
Such needed blessing
During these times of uncertainty.
I am grateful to be on the shore of Lake Superior,
Doing nothing,
Watching the waves roll in.
One blessing at a time.
by Valerie Bollinger 03/25
I noticed the other day, we have tree images in every room in our house. We never planned it that way.
I do love trees. And I do love nature.
I love birds and critters, sky and clouds, flowers and trees, sunrises and sunsets.
I try to be out in nature whenever possible, and I try to bring some of it indoors.Ā
I took photos of my tree images to share. They are as varied as live trees themselves.
And I am reminded of the ātree poemā by Ilan Shamir that “gives advice from a tree.” The poem is often abbreviated, and seen on bookmarks or plaques.
Advice from a Tree
Stand tall and proud.
Go out on a limb.
Remember your roots.
Drink plenty of water.
Be content with your natural beauty.
Enjoy the view.
The entire, beautiful Advice from a Tree poem gives even more advice. You can read it here.
Truthfully, there are even more tree images (and flowers and birds and…) around our house. We were surprised when we realize how many we had hanging around, or should I say, standing tall.
Tonight’s Lights reflects the illuminations I saw walking home from a 4th of July fireworks display one year.
Tonight's Lights Twilight Moonlight Starlight Fireworks! Fireflies Lamplights Headlights Garage Lights Porch Lights Interior Lights and in a fire pit...fire light!
Happy 4th of July.
Recently, in my writing session, I learned about a new (to me) writing patternā¦ syllables crescendo up and then decrescendo back down. In my poem that follows, I started with two syllables in the first line, and worked up to seven syllables, then repeated seven, and worked back down to two.
The prompt: Describe a day in the life of your childhood.
Get up. Eat breakfast. Do a few chores. Go outside and play. The neighborhood gang waits. Play until itās time for lunch, then go out to play some more. Go inside for supper. Go out until dusk. Then in, once more Go to bed. Repeat.
Obviously, this is exaggerated, but I do look back with fondness and gratefulness for my childhood. Which was so very different than my husband’s, who grew up on a farm in Pennsylvania. His was a happy childhood, too.
Today was my mom’s birthday. She passed away in 2009 but I thought I’d share a poem I wrote about her at that time.
Ruby Red Red was her color Ruby was her name Never much recognition Never much fame. But she was a faithful mother, A grandmother, a friend Loved and cared by many Generous to the end. She surrounded herself with beauty Both natural and man made She had a green thumb for growing, And an eye for things that stayed. From the house on McKinley To the apartment at Meadowbrook She kept her place beautiful It was always fun to look. Her fun sense of adventure Took her on many fine trips And hours of playing bridge Kept her mind sharp and crisp. Being with family and friends Made her most content She had much joy in remembering Those times were well spent. So hereās to Ruby Whose color was red God blessed her life to 86 An active life she led.
When our grandchildren moved to the Minnesota from Mozambique, Africa last month there was snow on the ground, thankfully. They were so excited to see snow. With our unusually warm January temperatures and no more snow fall since they arrived, I’m glad they had the chance to experience snow, even for a day. They made their first snow angels. I wrote the poem below, after our outing.
Snow angels
All bundled up
Almost unrecognizable
Skipping down the lane
Stopping to taste and see it is good
Noticing squirrels
And planes and dogs
Screaming with outdoor voices
Running, then stopping to fall in the snow
Beautiful snow angels
Disguised as grandchildren.
We are waiting for snow to make more snow angels, and a snowman! We have bought a scarf for the snowman. It is hanging on the coat tree…in anticipation. Let it snow! Let it snow! Let it snow!
