I’m fascinated by the dandelion; such a temporal thing it is. Transient, and yet tenacious, it grows, blooms, morphs, and flies away, above the fray, to plant seeds (and a new life) somewhere else.

In winter, leafless trees frame the landscape or cityscape, delicate and lacy while at the same time sturdy and lasting.

Walking is like a photosynthesis activity for us, an absorption of what’s out there to help us grow and stay healthy within, and also a process of shedding mental toxins.

A fiery sunset beats a fireworks display any day.

Nature is a natural antidote to down days.

Musings about why we appreciate sunsets, a recipe for a refreshing Chambord and rosé cocktail, and a haiku.

A haiku inspired by mourning doves in the early morning at Gumbo Cove … were they sentries? Signposts? They seemed like they were anxiously awaiting something. Like us.

We’re all waiting for the day when friends can once again be greeted with a bear hug.

A brown pelican dictates a conservation haiku.

Hummingbirds work hard. They do what needs to be done.

I’d like to get better at being in the moment, truly living, absorbing, feeling, whatever it is that I’m doing. Being more mindful, overall.

Reinforcing my benign neglect this year, the greenery of Glover Gardens has gifted us with unexpected late-November blooms.

Haiku saluting the Purple Fringe alongside the abandoned track at the top of Boreas Pass at the continental divide.

Reflections on an open mind, a growth mindset and an open heart. An open heart is the hardest.

twilight on the piersanta monica sunset the benediction Overrun with tourists and souvenir-hawking vendors, the Santa Monica Pier remains a worthy destination. The sunset guarantees it. Trust me on this. Note: because February is National Haiku Writing Month (NaHaiWriMo) and I’m a habitual haiku-er (is that […]

The orange tree reminds us that spring is here, even though it is cold and wet.

Llamas and tractors and pastures, oh my! Another Colorado-inspired nature haiku from Glover Gardens.

My lost loved ones were in this sky, whispering a gossamer goodbye.

A magnificent bighorn sheep posed for me, turning this way and that. He was either mildly amused or mildly annoyed, and we enjoyed a few moments together. Three haiku and these photos are the result.

It started out with cooking and recipes as the Glover Gardens Cookbook and grew into something else, something more, something unexpected.