Ghostly Visions!

  Yep, it is getting on to that time!  Halloween is just around the corner and along with that comes the thoughts of eerie things.  To some folks, living on a bayou is eerie enough simply because of the local denizens that reside here.  Just the mere mention of gators or cottonmouth moccasins is enough to scare some people but, if you throw in a conversation about things screaming in the night or howling from the depths of bayou where it meets the creek, you can give many visitors a good case of the bejeebies.  (I guess I am showing my age here as "spell-check" is yelling "You cannot use that!  It is not a word!"  Umm...I am old.  I use old words.)  Anyway, the mention of anything supernatural brings out the idea that the place is haunted and...well...I am a good part of that. I am good with the analogy as it is all in fun and those who think otherwise need to lighten up a bit.

  The other morning, I peered out the screen door as Bat, the cat, wanted out.  Ahh, there was to be a lovely sunrise and I should traipse myself to the pier was all that could run through the brain...so I did.  The darkness settled around me as the sun had barely reddened the sky behind the pines on the other side of the Bayou.  Carefully choosing my way as to not step on one of those aforementioned snakes, Bat and I headed our separate ways.  He headed north while I headed south.  Soon, I was to the plank that spans the short gap to the pier planking.  This is there for high tide but makes a handy "bridge" over what could be a perfect spot for a cottonmouth to linger unseen.  Stepping lightly on the planking, I eased my way to the end of the pier.  A sole white shape could be partially seen through the darkness.  If I had been one of those scary type folks, this may have made me stop in my tracks.  (To be honest most of those folks would not have been traipsing out in the pitch black to start with but, hey!...this is me.)  The "pier ghost" stood dead still.  It did not make a move even though I edged closer.  "Well, now!  How are you my friend?" I murmured.  I received no answer.  I eased closer yet.  

  By the time I got to the end of the pier, the sky was a glorious array of reds and oranges.  My "ghost" had been starting to become drenched in the same colors but decided now was time to make its great escape.  Off to the back of the Bayou it flew on whispering wings but not without a double squawk!  Goodbye, Ghost!  

  To me, it is funny how the gorgeousness of an egret is offset by such an atrocious call.  The bird in itself is absolutely beautiful.  Its white plumes seem out of place amid the mud that is so commonplace around bayous, its graceful, elegant stance appears to be far too fragile to battle the life it lives here but it is that squawk that is most incongruous with the elegance that the bird portrays.  It just does not fit....in all fairness, though, it does fit quite well with a ghostly bayou critter!

Red "Texas Star" Morning?

   I am one of those odd people who finds beauty in most everything around the Bayou.  For a while, it seemed as if the whole world had gone to pot and it was extremely hard to "look on the bright side".  Then, it came to me that dire outlook had to change and it was entirely up to me to change it.  So...I started finding beauty in the most mundane things just to prove to myself that whatever happens outside of my realm of the Bayou, it is not my concern.  Only what is here should be of importance since I cannot change the world but I can change myself.  Now, I make a point of seeking out what others deem as "everyday" blah and I search for happiness.  It is there.

  For instance, the other morning, there was an amazing sunrise.  While most folks will admit to the wonders of the sunlit horizon (if they are awake at that early time), not many seek how the red sky has an effect on other things.  In the garden there is a shepherd's hook that holds windchimes.  Mark brought this home from a tractor place several years ago and it has been quite useful.  I am not sure why he chose to bring a star (which looks mightily like the "Texas Star" emblem to me) but it fits right in with the mishmash of other oddities around the place.  I had just come up from the pier and plopped down on the front steps to retie my shoe when I noticed the star.  Wow!  The red sky was an amazing backdrop for the blackness of the still night shaded garden and the star!  That is lovely, I thought and had to photograph it!

  Ok, so now you get the idea of how I have rerouted my thoughts to find a bit of joy wherever it is dropped.  A purple wildflower, a dew bedecked spiderweb, a bright green treefrog or even a star lit by a rosy sunrise, there is always something worth my focus.  Folks, life is good regardless of what the outside world is doing.  People are people and will never come to terms with "how life is treating them" so I say..."Change the way you feel and find your own happiness wherever it is.  Life will only "treat" you as you treat it."  Be happy.

4am Is Calling!

   Folks are constantly questioning why I rise so early in the morning.  My answer is always "I feel better."  That is the honest truth.  My day starts at 4am and, if I linger any longer, my body starts wondering what happened.  "Hey, Woman...why are you not up yet?  Lazybones!"  Then, I guess in an effort to make me rise, aches and pains start setting in and then the brain starts shifting gears from "Let's get it done!" to "I don't wanna."  So, to avoid all of that, I rise early.  This must be a throwback to my childhood on the farm because Pop would rise at 4am and make sure that all the kids were up early to do their chores.  Mom would sleep in a bit while he "handled" things.  Once we heard that old hand-cranked coffee grinder going, we knew it was time to roll out of bed.  I smile every time I see that thing hanging on my wall!  Time to rise and shine!

  Another reason for my early rising is that I can get the indoor chores done before sunrise.  Once that time nears, I head to the pier for some peaceful "me time".  Some of my best thinking is done while watching that giant ball of fire rise up over the pines on the far side of the Bayou.  I get ideas for art/craft projects, figure out how to better the garden spots and ponder on the use of herbal concoctions.  This is the me-time that allows me to start my day in a halfway jovial manner instead of letting the worries of the world pile upon me.  Pop always told me that fretting doesn't do one bit of good so I should let go of it and just go about finding a solution to any problem.  Make sense and those early mornings give me time to hunt solutions.  Not to mention, there are some mighty pretty sights out there on the water when that sun makes its entrance.

There is a painting in that sunrise!

   That time just before the sun shows its face above the pines on the opposite side of the Bayou is my favorite time of day.  Usually by then, I have been up for a while and have most of my indoor chores completed.  I can head to the pier to collect the thoughts before starting in on the garden.  Between the pier and garden, I am not sure which would be called my "favorite place" but that pier sure has a strong hold. I go to watch the sunrise and see Mark off as he heads fishing.  He and I fully agree that "There is nothing like fresh fish for lunch."

  Sometimes, that sunrise can stir the brain a bit and cause the imagination to set in motion.  This probably comes from time spent with my grandparents as they both encouraged my creative endeavors even at a young age.  Granddad, especially, would push me with "Can you see a painting in that sunrise?"  I could and I would try.  My painting abilities never reached the quality that I wished but it matters not.  I still "see" that painting.  

  A couple of days ago, Mark and I were remarking about how the fog had settled in on the marsh just enough to make the sun stay dark until it was well over the tops of the pines.  I took photograph after photograph of this mysterious beauty, all the while, hearing Granddad's voice reminding me to look for the painting.  I can see it.  I wish I could paint it.  Perhaps, Darling Daughter will fulfill that wish for me. Granddad is the inspiration, I will provide the photograph and she can work her magic on the canvas!  

Bayou Tranquility

   Sometimes when I view the photographs of the day's happenings, they bring back vivid memories of other times.  This morning, the rising sun streamed through the pines on the opposite shore casting shadows on the water.  Several years ago, I took almost the same photograph...then, last year, the image was nigh on identical.  The only difference is the grove of trees is getting vastly thinner with all the "progress" on new houses.  No one seems to understand that we actually NEED trees but, what they do across the way is none of my business, I suppose.  So, I turn a blind eye to the ruination of the woods and try to find a positive side of it.  This is a fault of mine.  Let others fret over what is being done since I am old and possibly won't have to deal with the outcome.  They can deal with their own mess. 

  I do not turn a blind eye to everything, however.  I am one of those weird people that just looks at things a bit differently.  I figure there is beauty in all things if we only search for it...hence, the photograph of shadows on the water.  Life is too short to go around viewing ugliness.  That brings forth only despair.  It is far better to seek out beauty and fill the spirit with tranquility.  In this old, angry world, look for serenity and happiness.  Find your peace wherever you can.  The Bayou is where I find mine.

The Glorious Light

  I often claim that my predawn time on the end of the pier is my escape.  I can meditate, ready my mind and body for the day's chores and then sit back to enjoy the sunrise.  It is my "me time".  It is the time when the whole world seems at peace.  I enjoy this habit and make no excuses for keeping such odd hours.

  This morning, heavy clouds blocked out most of the sun's attempts of giving one of its glorious performances.  Instead of the kaleidoscopic array of colors, there was dark grey.  Instead of sunbeams shooting across the horizon, there was one momentary "hole" that let the bright rays spill out of the inkiness.  That "hole" was mesmerizing even though fleeting.  It almost appeared to be a doorway to a much more beautiful place than this world could ever offer.  The urge to step through that entryway was tempting the body and soul. 

  Bat (the cat) and I watched the brilliance for the few moments it appeared.  Then...total darkness engulfed us again.  Our chance to "escape" had slipped from reach and now we had to settle in to face the day here.  No problem...he and I started our day with happy ideas bouncing around in our minds...his of exploring the rooftop of the greenhouse and mine of springtime plantings.  Life goes on so we might as well make the best of it.  

The Comfort of Bat

   To start my day off on a happy note, my first moments of the day are often spent on the pier with a trusted friend.  In the past, these friends have been dogs.  Those faithful pups eagerly went on the predawn hikes with me and I felt quite safe with them.  Sadly, however, age had a way of catching up with them and they have left this world.  Now, I have a hiking cat.  While there has always been a cat about the place at any given time, none of the previous ones really liked to "hike".  Bat does.  He seems to have taken on the position as my "protector" and never lets me out of his sight for more than a few moments.  He brings a lot of comfort whether it be on the pier or in the garden.  This morning, I was happy to have him snuggling close to me.

  While it has never been an arguable point, my imagination does get the best of me at times, I suppose.  This morning as I sat and watched the sunrise, I noticed that Bat, the cat, was a bit tense.  He seemed to be on edge as the whisperings of the nighttime were starting to fade.  I did, too.  I could not put my finger on it but...it felt like I was being watched.  Needless to say, my predawn wanderings did not put me far from the Little Bayou House.  Instead of heading back into the "bowels of the Bayou", the Small Gardens were as far as we got.  Those felt safe.  Even after sunrise, Bat lounged on the lawn chair as I weeded the cabbages.

  Later, I reviewed the photographs of the (attempted) sunrise and was taken aback by a series of the images.  There, in the upper right center, seemed to be the entity that gave the feeling of angst.  Was this just me grasping at a way of explaining that uneasy feeling or was there actually something watching me from afar?  Nine of the eleven photographs had an eerie "skull" leering down at me!  Uh, oh!  Was this what Bat sensed?  Was this our creepy watcher?  Sometimes that imagination gets out of hand totally!  Hmmm?  I am sure glad Bat was hanging close.  Maybe we should spend a little more time in the Small Gardens for a few mornings.

Golden Clams

   I often speak of the "golden glow" of the water during some sunrises.  The entire Bay and Bayou appear to be afire with the reflection of the horizon.  It is mesmerizing.  In fact, I am rarely missing from the pier at daybreak simply because the kaleidoscopic colors send the brain into a frenzy of happiness.  This morning, however, that did not happen.  I was there, the sun rose but the water was missing.  The north wind had pushed the water far out from the shoreline so there was no glorious color being cast.  Mud does not do as well.  Not that I was too disappointed as...the sun did rise and I was alive to see it.  It is just a case of finding other magical moments to entertain the mind.  I did.  As I turned to head back up the hillside, a glimmer of "gold" was found!  Embedded in that slippery mud was a hefty clamshell.  While the mud does not reflect the sunrays, that clamshell sure did.  In fact, it practically gleamed!  There...there was the magical moment!

  It does not take much to make the wheels in my brain to start whirring with excitement.  All sorts of thoughts reeled about in a frenetic pace but the most prevalent was "How have I never seen the incredible beauty in a common clamshell?"  The mud, itself, even became more lovely simply due to how it held the shell.  As I pondered the shell and mud, the sun slid a bit further above the horizon behind me and caused a deep, dark shadow to form behind the clam.  This!  This was the perfect way to spend the morning...on the pier staring at a clamshell...by myself...completely engulfed in tranquility.  Bayou magic!  Nice!

Where Did It Go??

   This time of year finds us either having beautiful sunrises that turn the waters a lovely, shimmery golden hue or fog so thick that you can see nothing but a wall of white.  It is those golden morns that tend to get the most attention, however, especially when critter friends come to visit.  Their presence on the water makes it all the better.  By critter friends, I am referring to the tiny grebes.  Several pied-billed grebes can always be found near the pier during the winter months.  They have become so accustomed to my presence that they make little effort to skitter out of the way but photographing them is an iffy task as the birds dive quite often.

  Yesterday morning, the golden waters were at their best and the tiny grebes bobbed up and down constantly.  I only wanted one photograph...just one!  I got one...just one.  I do have several nice photographs of lovely golden water with ripples where a grebe "used to be".  The pied-billed grebes are a favorite of mine and have been ever since I first saw them.  They are so tiny compared to most of the other waterfowl and have the cutest faces.  

  Golden mornings, grebes, tranquility...it does not get any better.  Life is good, folks, when you can sit back and enjoy a few moments of whatever is around you.  

Those Magical, Purple Skies!

  As is my habit, I was up before the sun even thought about peeping over the pines on the far side of the Bayou. This is "me time".  It is the time when I can collect my thoughts without interruption.  It is the time when I can soak in as much tranquility as the Bayou can muster.  This time is usually spent alone as the menfolk in the household are still fast asleep but, lately, Bat, the Bayou Prince Cat, has been joining me.  He and I sit on the pier and stare eastward at the kaleidoscopic colors of the breaking dawn.  We sit quietly enjoying our togetherness.  We both can "feel" the beauty deep down in our souls.  He is a good cat.

  While this morning offered not a gorgeous sunrise due to the heavy fog, yesterday morning was quite different.  The whole eastern sky was on a temperature scale ranging from the palest of yellows to the deepest of purples.  (Those who crochet will grasp the reference to "temperature scale".  Everyone else...use your imagination.) The purple is what was the most stunning.  At one point the entire sky was purple except for a wee yellow line on the horizon.  This purple is not that rare of an occurrence.  You just have to be there at the right time.  The purple is caused by a temperature change in the upper part of the atmosphere during certain times of the year.  It seems that cooler air reflects the sun's light in different ways and makes the sky appear purple at times. Works for me.  

  Speaking of change, if you are so inclined to believe things, that purple sky can be seen as a harbinger of greater change in life.  A natural phenomenon can bring vast change in the way we see things or how we deal with things.  If a purple sky brings you joy, then sit back and enjoy it for it will be a fleeting thing.  Then ponder if there is anything YOU can do to change what needs to be amended.  Life is good...you may as well let it be magical.

  

Mind-bending

   Early this morning before the sun even rose above the pines, I quietly padded down to the pier.  It was COLD!  At least, it was cold for this old Southern girl.  The thermometer said it was a few degrees above freezing but you could have fooled me.  I was literally shaking.  Since it was still quite dark, I was being careful where I stepped.  There were no snakes to worry about but just a pine cone or stray stick could muddle up an old lady's steps.  I was the only one up in the area so falling and perhaps hurting myself would not be advisable.  So...I watched the ground.

  While I was on the board path, things were great but, as I neared the pier, a huge difference was noticed.  The path now turned to sandy splotches between pine straw, oak leaves and a bit of mulch.  This messed with the brain a bit so I had to stop and regroup.  The sky was brilliant red and that reflected back onto the sandy spots.  As the redness filtered through the tree tops which were astir with a brisk north wind, the ground patches took on a hallucinogenic effect.  My brain was becoming befuddled!  The whole path became a mess of discombobulated pulsating rosy-pink blobs!  Ugh!  It was almost nauseating but, at the same time, captivating.  For a full ten minutes I stood motionless.  My brain was a mess!  

  As you can probably tell, my mind never experienced the effects of any mind altering drugs. I never needed any...never wanted any...never used any.  Perhaps this morning's hike was enough to confirm that I made the right choice to stay away from anything that rippled the brainwaves.  I simply could not have handled it!  This was trippy enough!

A Mom's Worry

   It is unseasonably cool here on the Bayou this week.  By cool, I mean the temperatures are to drop into the  50s tonight and only hit the mid 80s tomorrow.  This is the forecast for the next week so I am fully enjoying it.  There is a downside, however, as we are not to get any rain for the entirety of this cool spell.  This is bad as we are already in the midst of a drought and, with the north winds coming into play, "fire weather" warnings are being issued.  Burn bans are out for nearly the entire state.  This is not a good scenario if some idiotic person decides to play with matches.  (Yes, people like that are out there.)  Best thing to do is to clear the fallen leaves as best I can and keep the grass cut short.  

  This cool spell did not come without presenting problems to those in Florida, however.  This is what caused Hurricane Ian's shift to the east.  Now the good folks in Florida will catch the brunt of a major storm.  Those good folks include my son, daughter-in-law, grandkids and daughter-in-law's family.  It causes me great worry having them face this entity.  Like I told my son...I am accustomed to facing these threats but not accustomed to the worry about others facing them.  So...I worry....and pray.

  The stillness of the breaking dawn on the Bayou brought peace and tranquility.  The storm on the horizon for Florida brings angst.  If you or yours are anywhere near the path of Ian, stay safe...stay strong.  My heartfelt prayers are with each of you.  Hopefully, Ian will whip in and be gone before doing much damage. 

Could It Be Moe?

   A few years back, I had the honor of befriending a Great Blue Heron.  This started when the bird as a youngster not yet adept at catching fish ventured onto the pier.  I offered it a few little mullet which it greatly appreciated...so much so that the bird returned every day for a handout.  After the first few days, I decided to name the bird "Moe".  He continued to come even after becoming an adult bird.  He and I got to be such good friends that he would actually take fish from my hands without ever pecking at me.  Oh, yeah.  I was warned.  "That bird will peck your eyes out if you get too close!"  It is silliness like this that bewilders me.  Moe never tried to "peck my eyes out" nor harm me in any way.  None of the critters of the Bayou do.  None.  For a couple of years, I had to limit my pier time due to health issues.  It broke my heart to know my friends (such as Moe) would not understand why I abandoned them but I followed doctor's orders and stayed a bit closer to the Little Bayou House. 

  Early this morning as I sat and watched the sunrise, I noticed a heron on my brother's pier.  The bird brought back memories of Moe and the good times I had with the bird.  I watched as the heron scooped up mullet after mullet from the water.  It brought me joy just knowing I was back in my "element"...back in my happy place.  

  As I sat there watching that bird, he kept a watchful eye on me, too. After a good half hour, the heron left my brother's pier and flew directly over where I was sitting.  It surprised me to see the bird actually do a "wing tilt" much as pilots do planes when they acknowledge or notice someone.  Do birds do that, too?  Was this Moe and did he recognize me?  Probably not.  Most likely the wobble was due to air currents or just the heron changing course.  Still, it brought a smile and in my mind, Moe gave me a quick "hello" before flying to the back of the Bayou. It was a good morning.

Lanterns of the Will-o-the-Wisps?

   As I age, things around me have started to look a lot differently than they did before.  Perhaps my eyesight is really on that downhill slide or maybe I am just taking the time to really, really see things. You know, there is a huge difference between looking at things and actually seeing them.  Now, I see things.  I see things as they really are but also how they could possibly be seen from an imaginative view.  Both perspectives are intriguing. 

  This morning as the sunbeams started peeping over the pines on the far side of the Bayou, the flowering heads of the cord grass in the marsh were literally glowing.  The reality side of me knew that this was due to the angle of the sun causing the beams to hit the tufted tops and leaving the lower part of the marsh darkened.  The imaginative side of me saw the lanterns of the Will-o-the Wisps.  Legend has it that these tiny spirits used their lanterns to lure unsuspecting travelers into the bogs.  There the travelers would become mired forever...never to be seen again. Yes, my mind travels in weird patterns.

  All of this does make you wonder if views like this morning's was the basis for many of the folktales that can be found drifting around the bayous.  Sitting on the pier in the darkness of the predawn hours makes you ponder a lot of things.

Just Keep On Doing

   You know, folks, sometimes you just do.  That nasty virus has hit the Little Bayou House.  So...I just do.  I am trying my best to avoid it.  Most likely, that will be in vain, however.  It seems to spread through everybody whether precautions are taken or not.  So...I just do.  In fact, it has been double doing for the past week.  The cleaning, disinfecting, laundry, cooking, housework, yardwork, taking care of the sick, taking care of the cat...everything...just do.  Needless to say, I am tired.  Needless to say, being exhausted, the virus will probably find its way to me.  

  This morning when Bat, the cat, woke me with his gentle nose boops, I figured it was time to escape.  After my coffee and his breakfast, the cat and I headed outside...at 5am.  It was still dark when we first headed to the pier.  I welcomed his company as we sat in the cool air watching a lightning storm over the Gulf. For a cat, he makes a pretty good hiking buddy!  We sat there for nigh on an hour until it was light enough to wander the hillside.

  It was on the walk back up the pier when I was awestruck by a rather bushy weed.  In a few weeks, this bush will be covered with golden flowers but, this morning, the rising sun sent it into a golden glow.  Either I am starved for entertainment or this was a sign that I could keep going.  If a weed can survive in the marsh and look that glorious, then who am I to give in to circumstances.  I walked away from the pier feeling much better than going down it.  In life, it is all how you look at things and that weed was mighty pretty.  I will keep doing.

Ominous Feeling

    Rising before dawn usually gives me the opportunity to view the sunrise in all of its glorious colors.  This is a great reason to roll out of bed at such an hour.  That and Bat (the cat) decides that 4am is the perfect time for breakfast.  It seems as if it is the perfect time for that first mug of coffee, too.  He and I share a few peaceful moments on the pier before we go our separate ways for the day.  I head to the gardens and he starts his rounds to make sure our property did not disappear overnight.

  This morning, however, we were not greeted with that array of color.  Grey...simply grey dominated the sky.  A slight mist was on the air and silence prevailed over the Bayou...a thick, heavy silence.  It almost felt as if there was an ominous shroud being laid around us.  Usually, I get this feeling before a hurricane bears down upon us but (thankfully) there are none in the Gulf.  Still, there was that feeling...a feeling that I did not shake all day.  Grey...ominous...almost disquieting. 

It Is Good For You!

  Not too long ago, I was telling my doctor that I rise before the sun and spend those early moments preparing for the day.  He asked what I meant by "preparing" so I told him that it was not some profound experience but rather a time spent merely contemplating my feelings toward life, in general.  Rising early helps me to deal with whatever is thrown at me without having to do it during a more stressful time of day.  I could sort things out calmly and rationally instead of jumping headlong into problems.  I was surprised when he said that he wished everybody did this.  Huh?  So, I asked why.  His answer made a lot of sense.  "People who rise early to greet the day with joy actually are healthier than those who are jerked begrudgingly out of bed by an alarm."  He went on to explain that this was just his observation and may not be the same with everyone.  "Those who spend a bit of time connecting with themselves tend to have a better grasp on life both physically and emotionally.  Self care is highly important."  Well, now...I knew I was doing this for a good reason!

  I am not even going to pretend that I have all my ducks in a row (or even in the same yard, for that matter) by rising before dawn but I will tell you that it makes me feel so much better.  Even on those occasional sleepless nights, I am out while the stars are still shining and the eastern sky is just beginning to redden.  There is something about the coolness of the air, the sounds of birds awakening and watching the glorious array of colors of the sunrise that brings tranquility to the soul.  

  

The Way It is

  Being isolated down here on the Bayou has gone beyond just a safeguard measure.  What started two and a half years ago with the onset of COVID has now become a way of life, so it seems.  You hear a lot about the "new normal" and I guess this is it for me.  I am to be isolated for the long haul.  If nothing else, it has made it quite clear of what is and who are needed in life.  Come to find out, life goes on with very little of either.  It just takes a bit of adjustment.  You quickly find that your happiness does not depend on others or on things. 

  Early this morning, I took my mug of coffee to the pier as I have for so many years.  As I sat watching the beauty of the breaking dawn unfold before me, thoughts whirled around in the head.  This life suits me.  I am just an old soul that is drawn to swamps, bayous and mires.  My peace is found there.  While loneliness can be destructive, solitude is refreshing.  Let me just stay right here on my mystical, magical Bayou and all will be fine.  Solitude...isolation...inner peace...all just a perspective.

Trying To Make Sense Of It All

   When you sit on the pier at the crack of dawn, it gives you plenty of uninterrupted time to ponder things.  Once again, the eastern sky did not disappoint.  Even though the cloud coverage was scanty (before the storms set in for the day), the beauty was there...so was the peace.  That serenity is the main reason for my early rising.  Today, however, the thoughts were scattered about in turmoil.  Overnight, the alarms on my phone kept erupting like a volcano.  Two murders had occurred and the killer was on the run.  A young lady and the policeman coming to her rescue were both senselessly gunned down.  My brain cannot wrap itself around such violence...such stupidity....such hatred.  What has become of the world?  Where has commonsense gone?  Where has decency gone?  

  As I sat there exhausted from the constant blaring alarms and the heartache of what had occurred, I felt highly grateful for my upbringing.   We were taught right.  We were raised to respect life in all forms.  We were taught to be kind, generous and loving.  We were taught to be hardworking.  If we wanted something, we worked to get it.  Nowadays, it appears that these values are nowhere to be found.  The whole world has gone to pot and the powers that be are doing nil to correct it.  In fact, they seem to be encouraging it.  Sad...very, very sad.  Think I will sit and stare at the sunrise a bit longer.  Too bad I cannot share the tranquility with  the world...but it is probably in too much of a rage to even see it.

Maybe Tomorrow...

   I am tired, folks.  Plain, old tired.  As Mom used to say, "My get up and go, got up and went."  It seems as if there is a never-ending list of chores that need to be done and there is just not enough time nor energy to do them.  With health issues and age always looming, I find myself looking at "deadlines" coming far too fast.  I am tired.  Plain, old tired.

  This morning as I sat on the pier trying to wrap my brain around the billion or so things on the agenda for today, the quote from Scarlet O'Hara in "Gone With The Wind" came settling in to stay.  "I can't think about that right now.  If I do, I will go crazy.  I'll think about that tomorrow."  Maybe I need to adopt that attitude.  I will think about it tomorrow.  In the meantime, I will sit back, enjoy the sunrise...then get the day started.