Bike Writer # 42 – Enjoy the Sandbox of Nature…it’s Free!

In the spring, at the end of the day, you should smell like dirt. – Margaret Atwood 

A Shade of Ash # 6 – Why does the happiest day of my life keep breaking my heart?

I tried again today as I have tried so many times since the last heartstring that bound us severed. For a split-second, I got to hear your voice. For a split-second, I thought you would listen to mine. It was the longest pause yet…trust me, I know.

So, Ashton, I guess it’s another “Happy Birthday” sent off into the universe with all my love. Maybe it will find the world I’ve lost and help return it to me.

– Dad xoxo

Bike Writer # 41 – For a Spell, For a Flower

Many eyes go through the meadow, but few see the flowers in it. – Ralph Waldo Emerson

Bike Writer # 40 – Paint A Beautiful Life For Yourself!

I went for a bike ride today. A small one, but it was enough to make me realized something. That moments like this are really, just little paint strokes on a portrait of my life. So, the more strokes I take, the more beautiful I make the big picture become. – Ash

Journal Entry # 180 – Be Someone Who Smiles in the Rain

This was last year in the park.

Some people feel the rain. Others just get wet. – Roger Miller

Journal Entry # 179 – Not Then, Not When, Just Right Now…Live!

Life is not what happened back there or what might happen up ahead. Life is like the rhythm of the heart — every breath, every blink of the eye. It is beat by beat, moment by moment. This…is all there is. This…is all we need. – Andy Puddicombe

Journal Entry # 178 – Together, We Will Overcome

Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it. – Helen Keller

Quarantine (Haiku)

Photo by Rahul Pandit on Pexels.com

Picking rain touches
seen there beyond the window
blending with our tears

Journal Entry # 177 – If You Think About It

We are what our thoughts have made us; so take care about what you think. Words are secondary. Thoughts live; they travel far. – Swami Vivekananda

Unbroken

Photo by Ingo Joseph on Pexels.com

Dead of winter
as the winds howl
I’m still out there searching for you
footprints quickly cover
forgetting how far I’ve come
my hands, no longer feel
my breath, stolen
my eyes, blinded by this storm
my heart, almost empty
my will…unbroken