Daily Post Prompt: Shine – via Terry Valley Photography

Today’s prompt made me think instantly of some great “shiny” photos by my friend, photographer Terry Valley.

terrys-sparkling-lake-larger

country-morning-shine

forest-b-w-hazy

icicles-at-falls-brt

wake-up-to-winter


To participate in today’s prompt visit the Daily Post.

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Prompt Nights # 37: Winter and Warm Memories

 

blue-blue-spruce-tree-smaller-for-blog

SNOWCHILD

When I was a child, I thought as a child,
And snow was a thing so delightful.
From school we were free; we got wet to the knees,
And our mom’s day was thrown all off schedule.

But now that I’m grown, I must do on my own
All the chores Mom and Dad used to dread:
Stock up food by the loads, drive on slippery roads,
Shovel snow, and repair that old sled.

Now I look with dismay at the skies leaden gray
As I trudge to the store for supplies.
De-icer and salt sell out fast with no halt.
I need new boots to tread on the ice.

The wind from the north is bitter and harsh,
But my temperature, still it is rising;
I am in a foul mood, for I see nothing good
That can come from a snowstorm arriving.

But then the flakes start, and I feel in my heart –
Watching white, fluffy, wonderful, wild
Filling all of my world with such beauty unfurled –
That in truth I am still just a child!

***


To participate in the challenge, visit Sanaa at A Dash of Sunny.”

 

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“Thawing The Ice” — My Response to ‘Anyone Got a Story’ Writing Challenge

Finally!!! I have been energized by the other authors who have been quick to respond to the writing challenge “Anyone Got a Story to Go With This Picture,” and, at last, I have had an opportunity to sit down and write mine. I offer it below. And remember, there is no time limit on taking part in this challenge, so if you’d like to participate, hop over to the link above and check out the very simple rules. I will also post the link to this story on the original challenge page.

ABSTRACT WHITE CHRISTMAS POND-B & WTHAWING THE ICE

Misty laced up her skates and glided smoothly across the ice. It had been more than a year since she’d come to her favorite pond. The trees were stark silhouettes against the deep snow, barren and seemingly useless in this white wilderness. She felt that way herself. The gray world around her matched her gray and barren heart. Words came back to her now from the whispering past.

“You can’t just give up, Misty. Marcus wouldn’t want you to quit skating. He wouldn’t want you to give up the life you’ve always loved.”

She continued to circle the pond, listening to conversations in her head – all from last year. After the accident. “I can’t skate alone. I’m no good by myself. It’s always been Marcus and me together – from the time we were seventeen.”

“But you’re so gifted, dear,” Mother had insisted. “You were skating beautifully long before you even met Marcus. Why, from the time you put on your first pair of skates – remember? – the pink pair you got for Christmas when you were six? – from that very first day, you’ve been a star in the making. All your fans want to see you back out there on the ice.”

Misty had merely hung her head and wept. She new her mother meant well, but she’d never be able to understand. And Misty was glad her mother had never known that kind of loss.

But her family didn’t understand about the fans either. Yes, her own family were her personal fans, but the fans in all the ice rinks around the world hadn’t been hers. They were fans who loved Misty and Marcus – together – “the darling duo” as they’d been dubbed in more than one news story. The fans wanted to see both of them on the ice, not just one lonely girl –  lost now in a world that had been her own kingdom little more than a year ago.

The cold wind bit at her, but she welcomed the pain. It matched the pain in her heart. And she welcomed the gray world she skated in now. It matched the world she lived the rest of her life in with Marcus dead.

So she skated – round and round the pond – one hour – then another. And with each trip around that pond of her childhood came the memories – like warm flashes of sunlight:  the first time she’d skated in her pink skates; the first day she’d invited Marcus to skate with her there; the first competition they’d entered – and won; the grueling hours of practice that both of them had loved.

Gradually, as the happy memories flooded back and thawed the ice that had held her soul in its lonely, gray world for the past year, Misty began to feel alive again. A smile spread across her face and she flung out her arms as if to embrace this precious pond with its stark trees and white emptiness. She found herself skating into routines she’d used before she and Marcus had become a team. And gradually, she found herself adding moves to those routines. They weren’t done consciously. They just flowed from her as naturally as water flows down a hill when a barrier has been removed.

Her heart began to sing. Her body followed suit. And although the pond and all it’s surroundings were still as gray and barren as they’d been when she’d arrived, Misty discovered that she was now skating in sunshine – in the warmth of her love for Marcus and in the fire of the passion she felt for skating. Perhaps her family and friends had been right after all. Perhaps she did still have a life to live and a gift to give to the world from her kingdom on the ice.

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I Love Birds

I love birds. They are so full of life, and we learn so much from them. I have a whole family living in my Blue Spruce tree again this winter, and I think they are Mockingbirds again. I had Mockingbirds two years in a row, but the following year, they didn’t come. Then this past year, I had Cardinals nesting there, and now (I think) another family of Mockingbirds — but I can’t tell for sure. Anyway, this group of pictures is a collage of several kinds of winged friends who came to visit today when I shared a box of crackers.  What fun.

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Twice Blessed

Well, I’m a little excited.  Last year, in December, I think I mentioned that one of my Azalea bushes had started to bloom a second time – even though we were in the middle of winter. I felt especially blessed by that event. It wasn’t as if the bush hadn’t bloomed in the spring as it’s supposed to do. In fact, I experienced one of the most overflowing blooming seasons of all my flowering plants last spring and have hoards of photos to prove it (many of which I’ve already shared with you folks out there).

Again this spring, all of the plants and bushes bloomed lavishly, but now – to my delighted surprise – this same Azalea bush is blooming a second time in the middle of October. The trees are turning gold red and brown all around it, but this one bold Azalea is blooming it’s lovely lacy-white petals as if it didn’t notice autumn in the air at all. I am twice blessed again this year. Happy Me!

Exif JPEG
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Photo Challenge: Thursday’s Windows – Week 10

Posting a day early because of the holiday.

I have borrowed a window again this week, mainly because it is one of my favorite window pictures, and it seem so very appropriate for this Thanksgiving week. I’m truly enjoying all of your pictures. Isn’t it amazing how something  so “ordinary” can suddenly become a thing of delight and even inspiration when we focus on it differently?  My mother taught me that. She was a poet, and almost every poem she wrote focused on the “specialness” that she saw in the “ordinary” people and things in her life. I will always appreciate that gift from her.

Be sure to leave the link to your pictures. And for those of you who live in the U. S., I wish you a warm, wonderful, delightful Thanksgiving!

Snowchild

We recently had a weather forecast for snow and other wintery precipitation in our area.  I was feeling all the usual negatives that come with that kind of forecast, while hearing children and a few friends exclaim how much they were looking forward to it.  Their attitude put me in a worse mood, and while sitting looking out the window, wondering when it would start, this poem came to me.  I hope it strikes a chord in a few of you, my readers.  The photograph is of my gorgeous Blue Spruce tree in my front yard.

SNOWCHILD                                                  

When I was a child, I thought as a child,
And snow was a thing so delightful!
From school we were free; we got wet to the knees,
And our mom’s day was thrown all off schedule.

But now that I’m grown, I must do on my own
All the chores Mom and Dad used to dread:
Stock up food by the loads, drive on slippery roads,
Shovel snow, and repair that old sled.

Now I look with dismay at the skies leaden gray
As I trudge to the store for supplies.
De-icer and salt sell out fast with no halt.
I need new boots to tread on the ice.

The wind from the north is bitter and harsh,
But my temperature, still it is rising;
I am in a foul mood, for I see nothing good
That can come from a snowstorm arriving.

But then the flakes start, and I feel in my heart –
Watching white, fluffy, wonderful, wild
Filling all of my world with such beauty unfurled –
That in truth I am still just a child!

 

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