“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


sunday morning and it is 48 degrees outside

it feels much colder in my house, my nose is like ice and my toes are frozen through socks, but the heat is now on and there is sunshine across the street, on the street, and tipping the corner of our yard.  the yellow leaves of the ginkgo are bright bright under that sunlight, no doubt shooting off heat and sparks and i am tempted to put on shoes and run on over just to see if it is warmer beneath its limbs.  over here, on the cool side of the street, we are covered by shadows and leaves and we are cool greens and browns.  there is a small squirrel dashing to and fro in front of my glass doors; when dashing to he has a pecan in his mouth, fro he does not, to he has another, fro he does not.  the wind is up and windy and flinging leaves into the creek; they fall from the trees like the days of the year torn from calendars, not many left, 2010 soon just bare branches.  

i am still painting walls at work, almost done, painting the backside and inside of the counter, finding photo orders from 2007 still waiting to be picked up, finding i need a bigger trash can, finding a bit of serenity in the brushstrokes.  that honey yellow is suddenly perfect against a new greengray wall, next to my aqua office door, next to the peeks of lavender/blue behind that door ~ i will show you later when the countertop is less piled with stuff, when flowers fill the pot which that plant from my father's funeral used to call home, it too finally gone; did i tell you this already, that the plant died and how not sad i felt, how i contributed to its death, it was so needy and i just had to say no more?  my father would understand; now there is a spot for flowers.

so.  sunday morning and a warm shower awaits and a bigger breakfast than the toast i had earlier.  a neighbor walks by, pushing a stroller, happy hatless baby in the sunshine sitting up looking around and backwards and taking it all in, enchanted with the world, with the yellow on that side of the street, the green on this side, the blue blue november sky above.  i know exactly how he feels.

there are red leaves entwined in the honeysuckle vines.
did i mention that?



  1. So beautiful to be taken by the hand like this and led into the way you think, feel, what you see...your writing is so intimate. I'm grateful for the inspiration to look around me as you have today.

  2. What a beautiful beginning to this day! For you & for me~~thanks!!

  3. i can see it, and oh, it is beautiful. you painted it perfectly.

  4. i love how your words always take me by the hand and and lead me, like a true friend, to your vivid corner of the world.

    yes, it's time for flowers.


  5. p.s. i swear i did not read "effy's" comment before i wrote my own! see how like-minded your loyal fans are??


  6. i am like the baby...often.

    just taking it all in.....and loving being able to visit here !!

  7. yes, that baby, filled with wonder by his very existence.
    room for flowers and for smiles and for love. room for sadness and autumn and for bare branches. it is all there in the bag of life.

  8. wow. I really enjoy the way you write. simply beautiful. found you from Artful Blogging and so happy I stopped by. looking forward to visiting again soon.


  9. "they fall from the trees like the days of the year torn from calendars, not many left, 2010 soon just bare branches."

    that just got me ...

  10. I feel as if I was there with you!

  11. I love the description of your Sunday morning. It might be lovely to walk on the sunny side of the street and crunch through the yellow leaves.

  12. Your writing made me stop in my tracks and pause and everything got quiet.

  13. you take me right there with your picture painting. i felt it all. i bet it was warmer under that ginkgo tree.

  14. Your squirrel story made me giggle out loud.
    Reminds me of the squirrel that has taken up permanent residence in my parents' backyard. They feed him peanuts. And he takes them and disappears with them...eats a few, but the rest he takes other places. Then he forgets where he stashes them. My mom finds them EVERYWHERE....in her pots, in holes next to the giant tree, under the deck...everywhere. The silly guy hides so many he can't keep track!
    Next thing you know, he's hanging upside down, raiding the bird feeder. I've got video of this. lol.

  15. Oh, I need your eyes to see just now. I feel gray and glum and snappish. Your colorful world, you beauty finding eyes are just what I needed. Thank you, my friend.


come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .