It was one of those weekends where everything I wrote sounded like drivel.
So I’m doing the wise thing and going pictorial.
Traded in my fat bike for one that fits me like a glove.
This was our first time out and I’m feelin’ the bike love.
As I begin this post about what I love about Minnesota winters, it’s 5 degrees fahrenheit outside, with a real feel of -13, thanks to wind gusts up to 32 mph.
“Forgive the dead year. Forgive yourself. What will be wants To push through your fingers.” ~ Marge Piercy, “The head of the year” Forgive yourself… Isn’t [s]he the hardest person to forgive of all? I’m still waiting for her to make amends The future is not ours to see or to make or to bend…
I’m on Vision and Verb today with different words to read. My first attempt at creating a post for both sites was a bit too chaotic to let loose in too broad of a space. But okay for here, I think… where I can worry less about embarrassing anyone but myself. Because sometimes the humor…
Over and over, I walk the paths near home, alongside the Mississippi. Follow the river… Isn’t that what lost people are told? As I walk, I wonder how far the water has traveled and where it will go. Does it end up back in the clouds? Will it rain down to the river to travel…
King of the manure heap
Queen that climbs
Princesses that tussle and spin
Woman who rides
Attention: This preempts a previously planned post that sounded too darn whiny. A winter walk Lit by snow light Quiet Sssshhh Hear the snow And geese gathering And ice moving Creeeekkkking And dogs wandering And wondering Sssshhh Pause Listen
