The voice of my soul is a woman of indeterminate age. I want it to be me, but I am confused by the sound, the lilt, the hush, and I wonder: if it isn't me, who is it? Read more →
The mountains are lovely today. It's Sunday. The morning is lovely. Our view of the mountains this morning is lovely. Life is lovely. There is a special quiet to the early mornings, here in Firestone, CO. The neighborhood is slow to wake up. One or two folks are up and... Read more →