Author Archives: guavatart

In the air just a hint of Christmas.

Each breath a simple prayer of gratitude.

Saturday morning ~ fresh air and friends give my week a blessing.

At the door the little dogs tumble out to greet me.

Edging towards winter the shorter days seem longer.

I am frozen ~ stopped in my tracks and unable to move.

Worn to a nub ~ I look outside and the sunshine is missing.

Waiting all day ~ the promised storm gives just a bit of rain.

Waiting for the storm the milk turns into yogurt.

This idea of soul swirling reaching has me giddy.