Swiss Scribbles

Waiting for the electric sunrise, the flow of lights streaming in synchronicity as the streetlights come on; that one in the kitchen above the sink, the other beside the bed across town, another weaving through plants in the sun room, and the twinkly ones strewn over the fence on Chrum street; reflections of people living

Chesham Chatters

The tiny trail, though surely much longer than I thought it would be, nestled in a cozy town. Snoring softly in winter and brought to life by the yellow in the sun. The way of things. How lovely it is to go on a walk, alone with your thoughts and the flowers, passing through trees

Doggy Doodles

A teeny town, just over the railroad tracks. It’s his home. If he ever got lost, I’d know right where to find him. Here. A favorite place for salty paws. Every time we go out, the leash always tugs in the same direction. And I feel guilty because I know I should take him more

Scotland Scribbles

The little train takes us far away for the day. Just a ways down the track one can find the water. A sweet escape from the runnings of regular things. I can taste the ocean, while winds roughen rosy cheeks and slip through shoulders shuddering in the cold. But still it is beautiful. Tiny racks

Budapest babbles

Warmth hits like the summer night we haven’t felt in a while. Little white hats bob up and down, teeny hammers tinker outside the glass of the bus window we travel through. They are building. And we are brought into a little world where runaways have come to set up shop. Revitalizing ruins, music plays

Malaga musings

A city in the sun… A castle atop a green hill rolling and I see below what I must look like from above. I was down there just a second ago. Or two, it was a bit of a hike. And now I’m out of breath because I raced to the top. The castle walls

Milan musings

Rainbows burst out of the glass, refracting illuminations of color on the pillar like tinker bell. A fairy’s disco. Reflections linger in the empty aisle, a ghost caught in the spotlight as particles of light hover in kaleidoscopic dust. It’s so beautiful. We see it in shutter speed. A story bending though, the ray of

Munich musings

Spinning slowly to see magnificent spires from so far down, as ghosts slip through the spaces between my hands like the breeze. Empty now, I can picture cartwheels in my head and I wouldn’t touch a thing. But people were here once, uncomfortably so, shoving each other to claim some space for themselves if only