
My writing has grown with help from the seasoned. Their words and stories are like seeds left to bloom in the garden of my own imagination. – Ash

My writing has grown with help from the seasoned. Their words and stories are like seeds left to bloom in the garden of my own imagination. – Ash

it is raining now
it has never really stopped
like tears from that day

Riding the bus on a rainy Friday night…
There’s a saying in Newfoundland and Labrador and many fishing ports throughout the world that applies to this horizon.
“Red sky at morning, fisherman’s warning. Red sky at night, fisherman’s delight”.
As I stood there this morning in an awed gaze thinking about that, I felt another meaning come to me. The storyteller’s version.
“Red sky at morning, writers adorning. Red sky at night, writers give sight”.
A passerby thought I just wanted to share.
Until…

Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, Earth to Ash, the podcast, goes on the road. Literally on the road, as I take you on one of my evening walks. With the cold snap now over and a mild backdrop at my step, I try the little podcast experiment and hope you can join me along the way. Oh, and there’s no poem or quote this time as I forgot my glasses…stop laughing.
Enjoy!!
Email: earth2ash@gmail.com

Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.
In this episode, I discuss being sick of the weather and how winter can sometimes freeze our lust for the year’s colder months. I also talk about keeping positivity going and grabbing as many pockets of happiness as possible. And, as always, I throw in a quote and a poem for good measure.
Enjoy!!
Email: earth2ash@gmail.com

Feed on happiness like an apex predator. – Ash

That one spot along the way home where you ran as fast as you could every single time because of that story…

A rocking chair and the gap between your stories. I hung in that quiet and on your every last word. Your voice for my heart, your silence for my soul. Then, it was time for tea…