Hope The Guard Dog
We can all relax! Hope is in charge! Hope, my Niece's guard dog
Posts
The Legend of the Sleeping Green Dinosaur
Once upon a time, back in the day, when the wild Green Dinosaurs roamed the West, a small green spotted egg accidentally rolled out of its nest. Down it tumbled into the deepest and darkest of the Western Canyons. There, as time would have it, Egg with Green Spots was covered with cold, moist silt. Eons past, and the moist earth rose and fell with the waves of time, tossing Egg about like a ball, and finally dropping Egg far away in the high, dry, Colorado Desert. And there Egg with Green Spots sat. Egg thought about hatching, but why? What good would it do to roam the empty Earth, without a family or a purpose? “Where is my Dharma now!” cried Egg. “It has come and gone with the desert tides, and I will stay here until I molder”. So Egg with Green Spots settled in, waiting for the dreary end of things. But one day, there came a sort of rattle! “Oh Dear!” Egg uttered with a squeak. “Is this the dreaded Egg-with-Green-Spots-Eating snake I heard about in my nest? “ ...
The Power of a Silhouette
Feel your toes grip the wet sand Inhale the Ocean listen! The gulls are playing. Mission for the Day 1. In today's travels, isolate a small silhouette . (it should be a ways away, or we can be grabbed by the nearest 'Q' . ) 2. Pause awhile, and let a blessed, unused memory flood your senses. 3. Breathe deeply. 4. Smile.
Southern Colorado
Time swept you away, and I am left with beauty. Somewhere near South Park, Southern Colorado
Southern Colorado
Time swept you away, and I am left with beauty. Somewhere near South Park, Southern Colorado
Promises Wait for Another New Day
The midnight sky is stuffed with moonlight, but you wouldn’t know it from the afternoon, filled with grey rain along the edges. Two figures walk along the empty road, foreground vivid with the here and now, while the vanishing point draws relentless close. What destinies wait behind that grey horizon, waiting for the early sun to polish up those dreams we left for dead the night before. .
On Shakespeare and flora
Would a Rose of Sharon smell as sweet If it were named a hollyhock? From the new Garden at Cooper Hewitt Museum, Smithsonian Design Museum