Monday, December 31, 2012

Mindful Writing Challenge for January 2013

icy mist veils the shoulders of peaks
sugar snow falls silently on seedpods
a necklace of fox tracks points the way

During the month of January,
I'll write daily Small Stones to remind myself to pause and observe closely.
Click on the Mindful Writing badge on the sidebar for more information.

Happy New Year my friends!

Saturday, December 1, 2012

Goodbye for Now

I'll be absent from One Good Thing until the New Year.
(You can read an explanation at LIVE and LEARN.)

lobby of Four Seasons, Denver, CO

Until then, I hope you keep searching for the good in your Life.

my antique sled with wreath - Breckenridge, CO

Throughout the month of December, I know we'll all encounter many good things.
May the promise of the season enrich you.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Giraffe - Spreading the Love

This male giraffe at the Denver Zoo is supposedly extra-randy. The day I saw him, he actually looked very tired (possibly from his sexual exploits). He was resting all by himself, gazing longingly toward the girls. Rumor has it that they've been put on birth control since they can't avoid his advances.

The gals were busy kibitzing at the other end of the pen, glad for a little reprieve from Romeo.

A bit of humor is often One Good Thing.

iPhone photos edited with CAMERA!

Sunday, November 4, 2012

A Day in the Life of a Party Guy - The Cute Factor

Last week, Samuel turned 2 months and attended 3 parties at 2 elementary schools.
He went incognito as The Itsy Bitsy Spider.

Unfortunately, Grammy didn't know how to fasten the sling. She ended up putting his leg through the arm hole, but he bent accordingly and didn't seem to mind.

Eight year old Jack proudly introduced Sam to his second grade class.

After a quick costume change due to spit-up, 
Sam observed big brother Ben making a monster apple treat.

All the little girls came to pat his head and talk to him.

He decided to turn on the charm.

His big sister, Amanda, made a kitty cat costume for her party.

However, she couldn't fool Sam.
He recognized her immediately.

Finally back home, Sam relaxed in a bubble bath.
(Mommy mentioned something about germs.)

ZZZZ - then the Party Guy needed a nap!

Thursday, October 25, 2012

A Muted Landscape

sometimes, just the slightest hint of color

is enough

We woke to a white world today in Denver, Colorado. More snow is expected overnight.
I walked through a muted landscape this morning.

The purity and silence of white was my One Good Thing.  

Monday, October 22, 2012

Middle of the Night (A Poem for Samuel)

soft shell
of flesh and bone
warm against my heart
rubber neck and bobble head
nuzzle on my shoulder
quiet sighs of milky breath
spin a lullaby
both of us drowsy
in middle-of-the-night's
velvety cocoon

Spent a few days (and nights) enjoying Sam, now 6 weeks old. 

Monday, October 15, 2012

In the Eye of the Beholder

Last week, I hiked up a trail surrounded by aspens barren of leaves.

Fall does not last long in the mountains of Colorado.

When it snowed this weekend, icy hearts formed among my sedum.
The baton was passed.

The beauty of winter is upon us.

Saturday, October 6, 2012


night's veil lifts
rouged peaks blush with light
shadows of doubt disappear
birth of a new day

I took these photos at dawn last week before snow fell both in the mountains of Summit County and in the city of Denver. I don't have a direct view to the east from my Breckenridge house, but I can see the effects of dawn on the Tenmile Range to the west. The weather has turned cold and damp - fall is rushing out the door. Winter arrives offering its embossed calling card. 

I wave goodbye as I say hello.

Sunday, September 30, 2012

Serpents or Sunflowers?

We just returned from Moab, UT. Of all the photos I took of Arches National Park and the red rock desert landscape, the photos I'm sharing could be from anywhere. However, when I see them, I'm reminded of a story I want to share with you:

One afternoon, I left the heat of the Mill Creek Trail, a paved pedestrian path running through Moab, and instead began following a narrow, sandy trail through a dry scrub woods. I walked slowly holding my camera still as I maneuvered to squeeze through openings where bushes and tall grasses infringed. Suddenly, rounding a bend, I came upon 2 homeless men sitting under a tree. The bearded one, sitting like a Yogi, began quoting scripture. I stopped to give him my attention. He spoke of calm and cunning and finally warned me of  "serpents." I felt a chill as I wondered whether he was talking literally or metaphorically. He pointed toward the high, swaying grasses fringing the path, and as I waved goodbye, he murmured, "Unsafe."  I continued on my way, now watching the ground more carefully in case a snake lay coiled, waiting for me. Paths began forking off from the one I was following until I began to lose my sense of direction. I smelled the next homeless camp before I saw it, the sour scent of sweat mixing with the sweet smoke of marijuana. Five men huddled on their haunches, passing a bottle and a joint as I approached. "Hello, " I greeted them, looking each one in the eyes. To a man, they stood immediately and mumbled polite greetings. I wondered if these men were the "serpents" in the first man's prophesy. But, they were solicitous - perhaps I reminded them of another woman - a mother or grandmother, a sister, wife, or friend who had once loved them. Several spoke a quiet warning, "No place for a lady..." "You could come upon danger." (Though no mention of serpents, thank goodness.) I asked them to point me in the direction of safety, and they did. In a short while I left the enclosure of the dim woods. 

The first thing I saw when I emerged onto the paved trail once again were sunflowers blooming in bright profusion at the edge of a gritty, graffitied bridge underpass. For some reason,  my mother came into my mind and the homeless men who knocked on our back door when I was a child. They were called "hobos" back then. She would leave them waiting on the porch while she made a baloney sandwich on buttered white bread, cut a slab of cake or pie, and poured strong black coffee into an old chipped mug. They always thanked her as they sat on the steps to eat. I was afraid of those men, though my mother never spoke of them as dangerous. This day, in Moab, UT, 60+ years after my mother's matter of fact charity,  perhaps I reaped her good karma. 

I encountered sunflowers on this day.

I saw no serpents.

Monday, September 24, 2012



a rainbow at dusk 

birds wading peacefully

taking flight into dawn

a baby's slumber

silent lullaby

Each of us is given gifts daily. Many arrived unbidden and unexpected. Our job is to observe and give thanks. I resolve to be more aware of the gifts and less focused on the wants.

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Observations in Late Summer at High Altitude


Each a marvel of renewal, clouds of seed pillows rest on the bushes. 
Like soft filaments of down, they ride on air currents to their destiny.

Dry, gravelly ground yields vivid cornflowers, a contrast of simplicity and symmetry.

  Berries like eyeballs stare placidly into the future - all-knowing, all-seeing.

In the the pale light of late summer, all dusty trails lead home.

Sunday, September 9, 2012

Sam I Am

brand-new to the world

and already dreaming....

my grandson:

Samuel William
born Sept 6, 2012


Monday, August 27, 2012

Time for Dreaming

crystal mountain lake
speckled trout jumping
time drifts slowly by

My son fly fishes at dawn on Lower Crystal Lake, Summit County, CO.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

Thinking about Confidence

somewhere within us

a child's confidence:

willingness to let go

trusting the landing

If I believe I can, I am closer to accomplishing it.
How does this belief in oneself get squelched?

As children start a new school term, may their confidence be nurtured and grow strong.

I give thanks for teachers who find the best in a child,
encouraging self-expression and emotional growth.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

Morning Meditation

gold touches treetops
 a young buck watches.

light leaks to sky
haze veils peaks
faint trail beckons

only this moment
morning meditation

Still gardening, hiking, and enjoying the summer here at high altitude in Colorado. 

Monday, July 16, 2012


I'm celebrating summer at high altitude!

Purple Lupine, Orange Paintbrush, Yellow Senecio


Creamy Buckwheat, Purple Harebell


Wild Geranium

While Nature is busy putting on a show, I'll spend less time on the computer and more time outdoors.

I'll peek at your blogs, but I'll take a break from posting.
Keep blooming!

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Wet in Breckenridge

dripping from trees

shower caps shield blooms

bugs take shelter under umbrellas

drop by drop by drop
a cadence of cleansing

(much needed rain is falling in Breckenridge, Colorado)