I stroll in the yard, dry as an arid desert. Drought drains most of life, but they persevere, soaking up occasional showers.
Follow their guidance, no surrendering, joy imparts effortlessly. Even through difficulties cause to celebrate sweeps in.
So much is happening in the world to feed anxiety. But there is also cause to feel the joy that nature offers and to learn from her messages. And the desire to celebrate always sweeps its way into our lives to help keep our minds balanced in order to move forward. For my husband and I, today we celebrate our beautiful daughter’s 30th birthday. 💞 Wishing you all a wonderful weekend, and one filled with joy and Cause to Celebrate!
Slivers: Chiseled Poetry by Balroop Singh is an enchanting collection of micro-poetry inspired by haiku, tanka, and senryu, also including acrostic poems. Nature, love, and life itself have inspired the growth of these poetic blossoms. Balroop reveals her graceful way of stringing words together, forming vivid images for the reader, inciting a myriad of emotions.
What I find noteworthy is her admission of thinking these forms would be too simple to write, therefore, her interest had waned. But when she met the challenge, she realized the task was anything but uncomplicated. And she met the challenge flawlessly. As I turned each page, more favorites appeared, too many to list, but here are a couple that resonated:
clasping trees beam/in the misty morning breeze/a glorious sight
These lines evoke backpacking memories of waking up in the morning in our wilderness home, greeting the majestic trees.
I heard melodies/of crescent moon that hung above/Darkness melted with the lilting sound/that merged in the symphony of sun/I chose life.
In this poem, I am reminded that our lives are not without strife but hope always prevails. Life is so much bigger and glorious than we realize.
Through Balroop’s magical word-weaving, she expresses the gift of surrounding beauty not to be taken for granted. She reiterates that we should persevere through the darkness because the light will shine again, and a heart that finds the deepest of love is a heart of gratitude. An exquisite poetry collection to be treasured and read over and over again. Highly recommended!
DEAD OF WINTER Journey 1-4 by Teagan Riordain Genevienebegins with Journey 1 in the first of a series that continues in monthly novellas. I have only recently begun reading the fantasy genre. But many wonderful authors have enticed me into their fantastical worlds of writing, and Teagan Riordain Geneviene is one of them. I was easily pulled into Emlyn’s world, the main character who is only twelve years old. A world with its restrictions appearing seemingly true to life for many.
Emlyn’s story starts in the Flowing Lands at Forlorn Peak, but her life is not all giggles of a twelve-year-old for she lives with a secret only her teacher, Osabide, is privy to. Emlyn can see spirits, but the controlling radical society called The Brethren view her as a disgrace. Because of this, her tale is one of mystery and suspense, of her trying to find her way, discerning who she can trust and who she must run from. Additionally, she keeps hearing the words, “Winter is Coming” which places the reader in a nail-biting position of mystery, wondering what those three words indicate.
Teagan’s writing is so compelling that the readers are invited into feeling emotions of love, acceptance, fear, and oppression, to name a few. This series is captivating with wonderful world-building, a well-developed setting, and characters that either charm or get under your skin. I have enjoyed the unfolding story through Journey 4, and I look forward to continuing the journeys to follow. If you appreciate great fantasy novels, or even if fantasy is not your go-to genre, I encourage you to give Teagan’s series a try. I highly recommend “Dead of Winter” for all readers!
Thanks for stopping by!I hope you’ll add these books to your libraries – simply click Buy on Amazon. For Teagan’s books, the link in this post is for Journey 1, but you’ll easily find the books to follow. Happy Reading!
The year was 1978. It was my best friend’s father’s birthday, and I was invited to go out to dinner with the family to celebrate. When we arrived at the popular restaurant, we had to wait for a table – it was crowded even for a weeknight. But the lobby was decorated in reds, oranges, golds, and greens – a warm atmosphere, inviting us to sit down while we waited. Most of the group found seats, including me. I sat on the edge of a comfy sofa. One you can sink right into and wonder how on earth you’ll get out of. On my right side was an end table with a slim glass vase holding one single red rose.Very dainty and pretty.
My friend’s father – the man of the hour chose to sit next to me. I scooted to my right a couple of inches to give him a little more room. What I didn’t realize was the comfy sofa had no arm and the end table was so close that this fact was camouflaged. Before I knew it, before I could shift the direction of my body, I slid off that sofa, landing on the hardwood floor! What seemed like slow motion, that beautiful end table skidded a foot across the smooth surface, prompting that dainty, pretty vase and rose to tumble off into a dramatic crash! Footsteps of restaurant patrons dodged scattered rose petals, shards of glass, and tiny puddles of water. And there I laid, stunned, wanting to melt into that hardwood and disappear for a few months. Long enough for everyone watching to forget about this mortifying moment.
Mel, my friend, offered me a hand. I must’ve stood up, accepting her help, but what actually happened honestly remains a blur. That event, though, from over forty years ago, stays vivid in my camera roll of memories. The difference between then and now is that I can laugh about it.To just laugh and let those silly giggles escape with delight is always a great solution!
Thank you for reading and remember to give those giggles some freedom! Do you have an embarrassing moment to share? 🙂
Lauren Scott (c) 2021 ❤️❤️❤️ Vase photo: Google “Just laugh” photo: dry erase board on my fridge. 🙂
Built with tender hands and love for his daughter, she happily rocked through childhood. Then with tiny fingers wrapped around books, they rocked like her – smiles spreading across their soft cheeks. Adorable animals enhanced the white finish – charm never to be erased. As memories of her father flooded her mind like a scrapbook of Polaroids, Grandma watched her grandchildren with a full heart, for that special rocker embraced new generations with the gentlest rhythm of love.
Our son in 1997, enjoying Grandma’s rocking chair that her father built. This precious little rocker has been passed down through our family for each new grandchild to feel the love.
Sometimes we get lost in our thoughts… losing focus of stars shimmering above us, the sky turning heavenly blue for our pleasure, raindrops falling for our essential cleansing. We tumble too deeply into the frontal lobe allowing negative thoughts to awaken, permitting them to throw a tantrum.
So we must remember the wind will carry worries and doubts across rivers and oceans, majestic trees will sway with joy, sheltering from shadows, and light will continue to shine, even if only a slight glimmer peeks through. Its glow will grow ever so gently into a bright beacon of hope rising with the golden sun bringing the most beautiful clarity to our vision.
I’ve never seen him act this way So listless rivalled to fun-filled days Head hangs low with each new step Where is his happy, bouncy pep?
Pacing round and round the room Sunshine doesn’t fade the gloom Seeking comfort with a whine His distress infects my mind
He tucks his body in real tight Leaning on my feet, he might Those amber eyes touch my soul Emotions begin to lose control
I’ll care for him until the day He romps around, eager to play His floppy ears will tell me so My love for him will overflow
Our Copper Boy has been sick all week and it’s been heart-wrenching to see him not feeling well. This is a first for him in his almost eleven years. ❤️
Since the empty nester phase has arrived, my husband and I have been flipping through old photo albums. Remember those? Not a folder on a computer, but good old albums where memories come alive on each page.We ran across this article I wrote in the year 2000 that was published in our local newspaper.Talk about memories!
“San Anselmo Memorial Park: Where the fun never sets!“
It’s a beautiful summer day in the low 80s. My husband is at work and I’m the designated recreation director for our son and daughter. There aren’t any play dates scheduled today, so what would be a fun way to entertain them?
I’m a stay-at-home mom and have met many people since we moved to San Anselmo, mainly through school and extracurricular activities. One of the most popular pastimes for parents and their children is going to the park. I have never seen so many beautiful parks to choose from.
Memorial Park is the hot spot in this quaint little town. Although the equipment was old when we first visited, it was a great destination for our children to expel their energy. Then, about a year later, I heard talk of a possible renovation, making it more desirable for children to play.
Talk soon turned into a dream come true. With the help of community volunteers and hired architects, Memorial Park was remodeled in one week! I knew if I didn’t volunteer to help, I’d feel guilty for a long time. This park and our children had already established a close bond and would be seeing a lot more of each other.
So, I volunteered to get my hands dirty and to participate in the camaraderie. Hammering, painting, lifting, cleaning, whatever it took, the work got done. The newly improved Memorial Park is even more magical than before. I haven’t visited once when it wasn’t filled with happy, giggly children creating their own adventures, whether in the mystical castles, climbing on the long-neck dinosaur, or building sandcastles in the big sand box.
Now, instead of wondering how I will entertain our son and daughter, I choose the best time to leave for the park. Usually, our children meet up with friends they’ve already made, which adds more dimension to the fun. While they’re playing, I share in adult conversation with other parents, flip through a magazine, continue where I left off in a good book, or simply enjoy the relaxation on a splendid summer day.What better music to our ears than the giggles of our happy children!
I truly appreciate the many volunteers and their working hands who conceived the renovation, thought it doable, making it reality!
Lauren Scott (c) 2000
I don’t have photos of the park during that time because I probably didn’t carry my camera on me. My bag was most likely filled with lots of water and snacks. And those were the days before smart phones existed where a simple tap, tap, tap could create 1000 photos in 5 seconds.
So, the photos I’m sharing are from the current website, along with the picture of my children that was included with the article. Now they’re 29 and 26! How is this even possible?!
Are you about to embark on the same life chapter of becoming empty nesters…or, perhaps, do my memories evoke special memories of your own? If you’re inclined to share, I’d love to read.
And thank you for joining me on this day at the park!
~Lauren ❤️💙💜 All park photos: Memorial Park website
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author 