If you’ve followed my story, you know that I’ve been dealing with health changes in the last year. And so, the trials commenced figuring out how to manage the pain while maintaining some sense of normalcy in my daily routines. In the beginning, I couldn’t walk long distances. I felt like this basic activity was taken away from me, which was tough to accept. I missed hiking. Well, in February, I had an epidural in my lower back (recommended treatment). Talk about miracles! So, recently, I went on ‘my first hike in the last year’ with my husband. I was able to hike at a moderate clip, and it felt so good to be on the trail again! We went to one of our favorite places, Deer Park, and of course, I had to take photos to document this incredible day where I hiked two miles without pain! I hope you enjoy the pics, and is there ever a time when Nature doesn’t inspire poetry? I don’t think so! These poems are written in Shadorma form!
Forest
Is it so that some believe the forest is not alive? We are all living creatures communicating.
Fascination
Standing tall with architecture to showcase, passersby drop jaws in fascination – one of nature’s gifts.
California Bay
Swinging
Stretch the legs pump with all our might back and forth swinging high while California Bay peeks with utter delight
SmileA new friend
Picnic Table memories
Two buddies slightly underaged ignore signs (no malice) they chug beer and chew the fat, officer stops by.
On the trail again!
Trees
A network of fungi grows deep in the roots, Wood Wide Web is the label given for interconnection.
Thank you for joining us on this memorable hike! I’m still doing well, and it’s good to feel good!
Lastly, today is the final day to vote for Nomination of the Month at Spillwords Press! If you missed it, here is my prior post. “Resilience is Her Saving Grace” is my first fiction short story to be published at Spillwords, so this nomination really means a lot, but especially for the vital message it conveys regarding abusive relationships. I am including the story below if you haven’t read it.
Resilience is Her Saving Grace
The tempest held its vigil on the horizon but continued to fool her. Devotion in his eyes mesmerized her whole being, awakened every pulse in her body. Eyes that spoke the language of love where their future glowed like an apricot dawn. She bestowed her heart permission to be swept into his pools of blue…
And yet, every day she anticipates the sting from his hand – the palm or back, makes no difference. The sting smarts like hell, but her heart secures the brunt of the damage. The slaps begin early each morning if she doesn’t move fast enough to appease his caffeine demands. And it’s ironic that he chose ‘chalet’ for his cell alarm because the calming tone contrasts to his horrific demeanor. After he walks through the front door following a day’s work, if she so much as smiles unknowingly to his disliking, his hand finds her cheek, and she feels the strike of skin even before impact. 5 p.m. on the mantel clock makes her heart pound as though trying to make a getaway.
The house that once was a home mirrors a prison. Cameras keep their eyes on her as he watches from his downtown office. Claustrophobia slithers down her spine. She struggles to quell the panic attacks. And her cell is meant only to reach him or to answer his calls. He tracks her like a wild animal. The ring on her finger stole all contact from the outside world – lost like a loved one’s passing. Grieving has no end, but she doesn’t dare misbehave because the pain is relentless.
She recalls the beautiful moments when his hands would send tingles from her neck down the map of her body. What did I do wrong? consumed her every thought when he transformed from loving husband to beast. Thoughts that became so tangled, she couldn’t ruminate until the truth stared her in the face. Her cheeks grew hot like asphalt in August from the realization that the monster had always existed.
Before the perfect couple whispered those two celebrated words on that breezy afternoon, signifying “You are my forever person,” he wore charm impeccably like a well-pressed dress shirt – his kisses intoxicating as jasmine, gentle like summer rain – respect enfolded in each embrace. Then donning satin and lace, the solitaire sparkled like her heart and soul, but true personas can take cover behind convincing eyes and smiles.
How could she have missed the signs? She ponders over and over.
Time – revelations, decisions, and strategies always take time. Her defense, submission, though she loathes appearing weak, and the agony tests her strength. But the path will wend its way, leading her to a door for a fresh start, caressing her bruised face and her body, his punching bag.
Gazing out the window, she watches courage whirl among the cottony clouds. Around the corner, freedom waits with intensity, as though motioning for her to come closer, excited for her new, safe beginning. She witnesses a glimpse of hope in the pink daisy pushing through the crack in the sidewalk.
But biding her time means life, and staying alive is her objective. She must bleed toughly. Resilience is her saving grace and not meant to be scattered on the floor, anymore. She must be smart to be free.
If you haven’t voted yet, I’m asking for your support, and here is the link to cast your vote: https://spillwords.com/vote/
Thank you again to Dagmara and her team at Spillwords for allowing my writing to reach so many readers. I am grateful beyond words! Not to mention, standing beside the other fabulous nominees! And a Huge Thanks to you who have already voted! Your support means the world to me!
Thanks so much for stopping by my neck of the woods, and I hope you enjoyed the beauty of nature, along with the significance of perseverance!
I invite you to visit Rebecca’s blog to listen to our conversation on poetry. You can also find our podcast on Spotify, Facebook, SoundCloud, Instagram, and Mastodon.
Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy the podcast!
Sunrise calls early, an Alarm, golden, intense Tickling with its rays, sending an Undercurrent to venture outside and Renew spirits with beauty surrounding. Dive into nature’s inspiring offerings, Abandon heavy burdens in mind, Yesterday becomes today’s gift.
** An acrostic is a piece of writing in which a particular set of letters—typically the first letter of each line, word, or paragraph—spells out a word or phrase with special significance to the text. Acrostics are most commonly written as a form of poetry, but they can also be found in prose or used as word puzzles. While the most common type of acrostic is one formed by the initial letters of each line, there are many different types of acrostics with letters in different positions.
We’re heading for the trail this morning for a hike (my first since dealing with health changes in the last year). So, if you can, get outdoors to inhale the fragrance of nature and enjoy!
My eyes look up to the tallest trees on our precious planet and I am drawn into stillness like a hypnotist’s magic
Fine slivers of blue calm many thoughts becoming thieves, stealing pockets of peace that wish to bring essential balance
Soft clusters of green gently dance in a breeze while nature’s wildlife build their homes and playgrounds
Sparrows and blackbirds croon for their mates I ruminate on how these majestic giants take care of each other, unconditionally We should emulate without deliberation
My eyes look up and I am reminded of their age ancient as dinosaurs that roamed the land
Angles of wisdom permeate my space My eyes slowly close I breathe in and savor this moment that is mine to own.
I’m sharing this story again that ties into my review of Dawn’s book from my prior post. I hope you enjoy again if you’ve already read it.And if you’re reading for the first time, I hope it brings a smile or makes you laugh. 😁
Dad saved my life when I was a little girl! He was my hero, and the unforgettable episode took place when my parents, sisters, and I were at our cabin for a weekend getaway in Big Bear, California. Sugar pines surrounded our little bungalow on the big corner lot in the mountains. We had just finished Mom’s delicious lasagna dinner, and everyone was relaxing in their own way for the rest of the evening. With crayons, I was bringing to life a picture in my coloring book, sitting on our coffee-colored sofa by our stone fireplace, and that’s when Dad noticed the spider on the cushion heading for me at lightning speed. He caught it just before it began the climb onto my leg. In those days, any spider who found itself inside our home didn’t live to see the sunrise the next morning. This moment was traumatic for me, so spiders have been the bane of my existence ever since. Even in my teen years, spiders seemed to follow my every move!
These wee beasts spent much of their time in my bathroom with the sky-blue walls and plush soft matching rugs. Never did they tour my parent’s bathroom. My mind drifts to the morning when I was about to take a shower, getting ready for another day of high school…as I turned the knob and looked up, I watched a spider ride the waves of the cascading waterfall down, down, down. I jerked my head back just in time, and I cringed thinking of that eight-legged creature tangled up in my long brown hair.
Mornings began to fuel anxiety as spider social calls manifested soon after the crack of dawn. The sun brightened the sky and another high school day was on the horizon. I grabbed a towel to dry off after showering when I felt something unnatural. Looking down, I watched in horror as a brown spider scuttled across my chest. I jumped, avoiding a nasty fall in the tub, and brushed the spider off not caring where it landed. I just wanted it off my skin!
I think these creepy-crawlies watched for me so they could plan their next prank. During another shower with my head full of shampoo suds, I spotted a black spider near my feet. The routine my feet performed was not one of a happy dance! With a swish here and there, my foot managed to nudge the scary intruder down the drain with ripples of water. I imagined it whirling into the dark depth of the water system. I quickly rinsed the suds out. Just as I felt calm run through my body, I looked down and noticed that spider climbing out of the drain! This could only happen to me!
I’m not afraid of fangs digging into me. Fear rears its ugly head when they appear out of the blue, startling me out of my wits! Any hope of building armor is hopeless. And they have too many legs; this, combined with their sudden movements of jumping or crawling at high-speed, send me into a tizzy, as my dad used to say. Also, spiders are not pretty. Not to me. The visual doesn’t compare to the beauty of a butterfly. In fact, their creepy appearance propels me into a panic as much as their sudden company!
Even after five decades, I haven’t been able to shake my skittish reactions. Even though I’m a giant compared to the spider, with any fear, the source becomes magnified. So, I’ve diagnosed myself with arachnophobia. And the tale continues…
One incident took place later in life. I’m now a wife and mom with two young children. On an evening like any other while my family was getting ready for bed, I walked through the house locking up. I turned the lights out in the living room, but noticed a dark spot the size of my palm on the carpet. I almost – almost – reached down to touch it, but a bell went off in my subconscious warning me not to. I turned on the light and staring back at me was a black hairy tarantula!
“Oh, Shit!” I screamed, backing up slowly.
“Uh, oh! A spider found mom!” My husband, Matt, said to our daughter and son, who thankfully, didn’t share my fear. But he silently questioned the kind of spider that would cause me to shriek. This scenario sounded different.
After I managed to widen the space between the tarantula and me, my feet felt like cement blocks. Fear crept into my veins like a drug. I had never seen a tarantula up close, although I was thankful it stayed put. It didn’t budge. It was not afraid of me. What a fiasco if the tarantula had run! If it had, I would’ve run too! Heebie-jeebies creep up my arms imagining the leggy intruder finding comfort beneath the sofas (that I would never sit on again!).
Matt was taken back when he joined me in the living room and was surprised that I hadn’t passed out! My daughter had instituted the trend of saving spiders with a glass and a paper plate. So, by grabbing those two items, Matt scooped up the uninvited guest while I held the door. Per my request, he walked far enough away from the house before setting the big guy free in the yard. No tarantula was killed in the telling of this event. Our front door had been open earlier in the evening with the screen door closed. Spiders can maneuver through any cracks, but how that tarantula the size of my palm squeezed through baffles me to this day!
A few weeks after Matt had introduced “Harry” to his outdoor residence, my phobia eventually quieted down. Until recently when I sat at the kitchen table typing on my laptop. I noticed a spider crawling over the top of the screen. You have got to be kidding me! It was the color of vanilla and appeared like out of a horror flick, magnified by the white backdrop, growing to an enormous size – my skewed perception! Each leg made its way over the top! Since Matt was home, I yelled for his help. He grabbed the spider-saving tools but was too slow for the speedy spider who was off to the races! So, Matt lobbed the glass to me like we had teamed up for an egg toss! “Oh no, I missed him, too!”
“Hon, it’s just a spider,”Matt said with a smile and a pinch of courage. He knew Harry’s ugly image had been engrained in my mind, and no matter how much effort I exerted, it was stuck there forever. So, I couldn’t believe my ears, just a spider, but I knew he was teasing.
As it happened, this spider was faster than lightning!
“He’s on the floor…hand me the glass!”Matt tried again. “Ahh, now I can’t see him; he blends into the tile.”
“It’s time for the vacuum then; I’m so sorry,” I said out loud. When I finished pushing the vacuum back and forth, relief washed over me because I assumed the spider had been swallowed into oblivion. Then guilt followed because we tried to save the creepy creatures. My emotions were mixed! I sat down at the table again, but not before examining my laptop with eagle eyes to ensure no more spiders needed screen time!
Five minutes later, I saw the spider again!
“Oh my gosh, Honey, he’s following me!”
“Who’s following you?”
“Who do you think is following me?!”
I ignored Matt’s razzing, but a chuckle managed to escape anyway. I grabbed the glass but missed the spider again. Good thing we weren’t on a baseball team! The spider certainly had an agenda – still racing to an unknown destination and much faster than us. My eyes stayed focused on the little fellow as it headed for the living room. He must be having the time of his life – the furniture would be a stellar playground!
“Just watch, I’ll find him on my chair in the morning,” I said.
“Could be. Should I make a bigger pot of coffee?” Matt replied, as he hid behind a grin.
After all the commotion, I had survived because we didn’t see the eight-legged visitor again, and extra coffee wasn’t needed in the morning.
However, I admit and without apology that I don’t step into the shower before peeking behind the curtain first. Overcoming this fear most likely won’t happen. But if I can save a spider, and manage to hang onto the glass while it skitters around, then make my way to the door to give it freedom, that’s progress. Amazing progress! Once outside, I gently lay the glass down and with leg synchronicity, the spider crawls out heading to the roses and lantana, making us both sigh with relief.
Neither of my thumbs have ever been green for the garden, and the last thing I wanted to do was deliberately put my hands in a spider’s haven. Nowadays though, I’m in tune with the blooms, so I don’t worry about the creepy-crawlies when I’m offering the blooms a drink. Fear doesn’t have the firm grip that it had in years past.
But have I conquered arachnophobia one hundred percent? No, but I realize this phobia doesn’t prey only on me. Knowing I’m not alone while learning to exist with arachnids, that some are good for gardens, and acknowledging that they’re not out to get me is a work-in-progress. I’ve come a long way since that evening at the cabin when Dad saved my life. Maybe his reaction incited fear. Yet, if the spider had begun its ascent onto my leg, fear would’ve hurled into full force anyway!
And so I wonder, had the spiders been laughing at me when their presence whirled me into a frenzy? My intentions were always good. I simply didn’t want to be roommates. Laughing with me would’ve been perfectly welcomed.
Thank you for stopping by, and for taking the time to read this lengthy story. Enjoy your weekend! ❤️
My latest collection of poetry, touching on nature, love, and the mysteries of life that would make a great for any holiday! Click on the image for your copy. Thank you! 💚
Ariel’s Song by Dawn Pisturino is a beautiful and evocative collection of sixty-five poems – a collection that she lovingly dedicates to her daughter whose name is Ariel. The poems were written over a period of three decades touching on topics of love, family, children, death, nature, and the unique. Some rhyme and others are free in their styles from traditional sonnets that invited me to contemplate, to twisted limericks that made me laugh. I had many favorites, but I’m sharing snippets from a few, otherwise, this review would turn into a novel.
Many poems brought a sense of nostalgia. “November” evoked memories of when the season changed into golds, yellows, and reds, the air brought a chill, and my parents were still with us, enjoying family weekends at our cabin – everyone was young, and the future looked brighter than ever.
When November came, We sat around the kitchen table after dark, Telling chilling tales Of ghosts and other phantoms of the night, While wooden logs crackled and burned On the old stone hearth, And a cold wind wrapped its spectral arms Around the ancient wooden cottage…
Dawn writes of her late father in “Rapping” which stirred emotions of my mother-in-law who departed from our world over thirty years ago. Our daughter was born the same year that Diane passed, and one evening from downstairs, we heard footsteps on the carpeted staircase when our little girl was sound asleep in her crib. No one else was in the house with us. So, was it Diane stealing a glance at her first precious grandchild? We imagined it was, and so we believed.
As a nature lover with a grateful heart for each new day “When the Morning Comes” hit home and really should be hung on refrigerators:
When the morning comes, Sun will shine with a different light, Earth will glow in a brand-new way, Moon will dance to a gayer tune, Clouds of pain will float away. Broken hearts will beat again, Empty eyes will see new life, Throats will open up and sing, Hands will break the chains of strife…
“I Hate Snakes” made me laugh out loud, but I can relate so well to the sentiments. Dawn’s vivid imagery summoned me along to explore with her in ‘the jungle’ and her frightening experience with snakes reminded me of my first encounter with a spider, which eventually turned into arachnophobia, causing a never-ending turbulent relationship with the creepy-crawlies.
I HATE SNAKES
I pushed open the creaky door to look inside And froze in shock at what I saw: Slithering, crawling, scaly snakes Formed a moving carpet on the floor, Entwining in an intimate embrace, Lying together in a clump of shimmering bodies, Moving slowly and surely in the rotten shadows. We beat a hasty retreat And never visited our ‘jungle’ again. And that’s why, even today, I HATE SNAKES!
Dawn’s collection of lovely, witty, and occasionally dark poetry, offers a verse and a sense of familiarity for everyone. Highly recommended for all poetry enthusiasts!
Thank you for stopping by, and enjoy your weekend ahead! ❤️
My latest collection of poetry, touching on nature, love, and the mysteries of life that would make a great for any holiday! Click on the image for your copy. Thank you! 💚
Last Friday, I took myself for a leisurely drive on the country roads to one of our favorite, charming towns, Pt. Reyes Station – about a 45-minute drive. At this time of year, the hills are velvety green, the sky a vivid bright blue, and the clouds looked soft and cottony – a gorgeous day! Upon arrival early enough for ample parking, I found a spot close to Toby’s Coffee Cart that called out to me when I got out of my car! I had to get a chai tea latte, and then I sat at a cute orange table and enjoyed the sweet and spicy drink. While I watched people pass by, listening to the sounds – chatter, laughter, dogs barking, and birds singing – a poem was brewing. Are you surprised? 🙂
Shopping was inevitable – I found a white beaded bracelet signifying tranquility and a new book. I don’t need more books! But I can’t walk by a book store and not peruse its treasures, let alone, find a treasure that I have to read! Why We Swim by Bonnie Tsui caught my eye because I’ve always loved swimming, and growing up, we had a pool in our backyard. Diving to touch the drain, pretending to be a mermaid, swimming laps, and playing Marco Polo with family and friends are some of the great memories!
At the end of my Pt. Reyes visit,taking photos was on the agenda. How could it not be? I hope you enjoy the beautiful scenery and the fun poem!
Blues and Greens just for Me
A day for me and me alone With my thoughts we will roam Lovely country roads we’ll drive Lined with yellow blooms to thrive Rolling hills in emerald bright Velvet touch, a stunning sight Shops to wander, trinkets entice Sipping chai, a relaxing sigh Flora and fauna all around Camera in hand, photos abound Memories made for me alone A day for me to freely roam
Just like sunrises and sunsets, there is no such thing as ‘too many sky photos!’Old barns captivate me! An inviting Zen garden.I’ve never mastered selfies!
Thank you for stopping by, and know that I appreciate you! ❤️
My latest collection of poetry, touching on nature, love, and the mysteries of life that would make a great for any holiday! Click on the image for your copy. Thank you! 💚
Baydreamer Writes ~ Lauren Scott, Author & Poet 