Weathered

 

My heart raced with my feet as I skipped out the door of the local Starbucks. ‘Too much espresso,’ I thought. ‘Nah, no such thing.’

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The Beauty of Familiar

The closet door slides open. In my slumber, I can hear him being as quiet as possible. In my in between state, I’m grateful to be able to sleep just a little bit longer.

I like that place — that place in between asleep and awake where anything is possible. Dreams mesh with the sounds of reality in that place. I hear the coffee pot turn on and the frying pan sizzle, and for a moment, my body is at peace.

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YingYang

Driving through the back country roads of northern New Jersey on dark December nights is enchanting. The smell of wood-burning stoves filtered through the vents and warmed every part of me. Sometimes on those freezing winter nights, I’d even roll down the windows just to let the crisp air fill me to my brim.

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