What does it really look like when we get down the road? It’s up to us, isn’t it? This is no time to blink.

A brown pelican dictates a conservation haiku.

Everything needs a foundation; you can’t just jump into something without laying the groundwork and expect it to work.

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

Just around the corner from crowded Covent Garden in London, I found an unexpected peaceful haven, a magical courtyard. I had entered another dimension, Harry Potter-style.

The sky over South Park Valley demands a haiku today, the first day of NaHaiWriMo 2020.

On a solo visit to the wonderful Museum of Edinburgh, I spent some time in the courtyard and caught these pigeons courting.

Inclusiveness is the only way we can ever be whole.

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.

It’s time to transition from the frenzy of getting everything done to the fullness of seasonal reflections.

An instant haiku inspired by a cat and an old Mexican proverb.

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

A gorgeous, fiery sun merging with the horizon while it generously backlit the clouds and turned the evening sky into a work of art deserving of a haiku.

A beautiful Mississippi sunset deserves a haiku.

Even the most mundane things can be magic when you love to travel, like wet streets and traffic a chilly, rainy evening in Aberdeen.

A footprint, a feather and a leaf, about to be swept away. Remembering my brother in a haiku.

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

A not-Cajun sandwich on a flight from Paris to London.

Haiku born of people-watching at a nightclub.

treehouse afternoonsendless summer daydreaming ~limitless future