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I wake in the morning to find the sun has been waiting for my resting eyes to open. It says “good morning” as I open the blinds. Just knowing it was peaking through the slats in anticipation of my day, makes me smile. My eyes close and I can feel it painting my face with the color I imagine would be called warm, my fingertips touching the glass to say thank you.  It warms my face with the start of a new day and a promise that anything is possible…….anything at all.
As I travel through the streets, it sometimes plays peak-a-boo with the buildings and trees….but it is never far away and I smile when I find it again. It bounces light off objects to project a prism of bright colors to enjoy. They move as the sun moves, and disappear only when told it is time to go. I feel the warmth penetrate my body as if, out of fear, I will not get a chance to feel warm again….and I sigh in relief knowing the later will not happen. If it disappears behind a vail of clouds, it is missed, and I find my eyes continually look toward the sky, awaiting its return.
As the day comes to an end, it slides to the west, each step bringing a beautiful array of orange, yellow and red. If a few clouds have filled the horizon, it is only because the sun wants to surprise and enlighten us with stronger colors that day.
I love you sun, thank you for brightening my day, my soul, and my heart with your warmth.

Recently, my sister Marianna compiled a collection of my mom’s poetry. Her writings, starting from high school, including her elegy to the great composure Gerswin, are amazing. Other poems telling stories of love and dreams are overflowing with emotions. I hang onto every word.
Writing was a thread my mom and I shared. I would read my poems to her; she would laugh or cry, always telling me how much she loved them.
As I read my mom’s writing, I am given a brief view of the person she was. I can see the images of her words in colorful dances of life. I feel the tears she felt when pouring out thoughts from her heart. As she was busting at the fabric of life to be heard, she whispers the words to paper.
When I was young I didn’t know or understand her, only that a daffodil would make her smile at the promise of spring to come. When I was a young mother and adult, she was gone. Her life ended, leaving unanswered questions and the loss of Lily of the Valley fragrance filling the air around her. No time left to have a cup of coffee and talk about life, decisions made, dreams broken or simply advice only a mother can give. Life took her on a roller-coaster ride that would alter her life around her children and grandchildren. Now with her words in my possession, she is in my heart and my mind, watching the threads of her life travel through a journey in time. They are filled with her desires, confessions of love, and sadness as if alone in this world. They leave me with a desire to take the sadness from her, wrap my arms around her in comfort. But it is too late – maybe it was always too late.
Today and always I will hold her words in my heart. I can see her…feel her…hear her and see the images of her words in my mind.
My hope is that through her writings, she found some peace.

We bloggers put everything out there. The weaving of patterns on paper representing our innermost thoughts and feelings. Like the entwining of colors braiding our thoughts together in an array of patterns for all to see.  It’s love, hate, smiles, tears, happiness, sadness and sometimes even a feeling that is so overwhelming, like when you hold your child in your arms for the first time, that it comes from deep inside so strong you think you might explode. I feel it deep inside when a bird perches on a fence and looks at me as if he has something to share, or I see a leaf fall from a nearby tree with a flutter in its descending movement. I am told I wear my emotions on my sleeve, which I always found a funny statement. If they were on my sleeve, I would grab the ones I liked and shake the others off….or just change my shirt. But what I think they mean is I am emotionally charged. When I see something, it may shake my soul and my reaction pours out from within me…..where someone else may say “it’s okay, nothing to write home about”…..they just didn’t get what I was getting out of the vision. That is okay, since that person might be blessed with fact and logic that slips past me completely. I run on emotion….others on logic. It is what balances our world. When someone reads my writings and lets me know it made them feel good, they understood that situation, or just love my words, then I feel like I have people that “get me”. They may not have the experiences I have, but they are there, in that time or place with me when they read my blogs and a writer (want to be) can not ask for anything more.
It is my belief that writing satisfies our need to express experiences we want to share. Maybe our imagination is jumping with excitement or new ideas. Or maybe we just need healing. At the time of writing, those words can be pouring out of me at an alarming rate.
As the holidays approach us, we are reminded of our blessings and give thanks for all of them. We celebrate the birth of Christ and smile just a little bit more. When I give thanks or need help or healing, I turn to Jesus. When I am broken, I have to fall to my knees and look up to him and ask for help to heal, for myself and for others involved. How can I call myself a Christian if I do not believe what Jesus can do for me…..did for me. As I learned to be a person, He was there. When I made wrong decisions, He was there. Every time I cry, He is there. If I want comfort, He is there. I pray for others to heal or to realize when they are broken they too can fall to their knees before Jesus and pray for healing. Some people think being a Christian means doing nice things for others, helping the needy and being there for others, being compassionate….that God will take favor on you for being such a nice person. What God desires of all of us is simple to accept him as our Savior and to share his word with others. Living in his light makes all those compassionate behaviors come naturally, because he is in our hearts. But everyone must also look clearly at themselves to determine their rightness with God. Does everything look as good on the inside as the outside? One of my favorite books is My Heart-Christ’s Home by Robert Boyd Munger. It’s just 28 pages, but speaks volumes. I don’t always like who I see in the mirror…..that is when I know it is time to go to His book and find words to learn by.
I may falter and think I can handle a situation on my own….God patiently waits for me to realize I can’t. That is when I offer a prayer up to God and in the morning light, new visions are possible. He provides me with a calm to help me put the words on paper that will soothe my soul and heart….and let the healing/learning pour in. God may not always agree with what I say, but he blessed me with a desire to write and so I do.
This year my Thanksgiving holiday will be spent in Escanaba, Michigan with Dan’s side of the family. They will make me feel welcome and loved, and we will have a great time during my first deer hunt. We leave tomorrow for our travel across the states. Though the colorful side of the welcome mat I was use to, tickles the air at times, and I am grateful for those time, I am hoping another year will change the dynamics of life and the welcome mat will be fully flipped back over. I am very grateful for the blessings I have, but Thanksgiving will not be the same this year. While I am gone, I will have limited internet (if at all) in the UP. There are no Starbuck’s etc for Wi-Fi use, so I want to wish everyone a blessed Thanksgiving. I hope you will engulf your family with love, share some old traditions and create some new ones. But most of all I wish you all fun, happiness, love and a safe Thanksgiving.

I open my eyes to the morning….the world it quiet. It has snowed and it is as if the world has stopped. The icicles hang motionless from the tips of the roof, reinforcing the knowledge of chill in the air.
We woke to about 7″ of snow….the second round of the season. I am so glad I am able to curl up with my husband and drink our morning coffee without worry of the travel, and knowing when we do go out, Dan will handle it with a smile on his face. But for me, I no longer have to worry about who is out on the road as I find my way to work…..I not only have a great husband, but one that loves the snow and grew up in more snow than we see today. He is as versed driving in the snow as I am walking in the sandy beaches….so I am very comfortable in the weather as it changes by day here in Colorado. For right now, we are able to hang out this morning and just be. Later we will take a walk and test out my new snow gear….checking for the warmth it will bring me before we head to Wyoming tomorrow where they are also covered in a blanket of white. 
So…..good morning to all of you as you wake up in snow, or rain or whatever Mother Nature has started your first moments of the day with. 

Each of us have a routine for preparing for the colder weather to land in our lives. Clearing out sprinkler systems, new weather-stripping in the doors. Using that plastic window cover that gets taut when you use the hairdryer on it….love that stuff. Maybe you have been blessed with a home loan and were able to get new insulated windows, new roof or new heater this year….a wise investment for sure. Trim trees that have branches to close to the power lines. Getting that last mowing done for the season. New batteries in all the flashlights, extra blankets handy and the winter coats are brought down to the hall closet to match the rubber boots. Regardless of what you have done to prepare, you know it is necessary.
So, what does it take to be a bird in this changing temperature? Tuesday afternoon, I was blessed to get a glimpse of how their world operates. While I wait for Dan to go over some items with the contractor on this job, I am enjoying the view from the kitchen window. The wind is kicking up her heals to let us know she is bringing in the first snow storm of the year. She howls and smiles with every breath. Suddenly, I look up to see a woodpecker on the line above the yard. He flies down to the ground. I see he has picked up a good size morsel, perhaps an acorn or other nut. He flies back up to the line and is looking around determined to be alone. Then he flies back down to the ground, again studying for any possible intruder. He then pushes the morsel into the ground with his beak. Looks around again and flies back up to the wire above. He looks carefully, and then flies back down and checks his morsel, looks at a leaf and picks it up to cover the spot he buried his stash. Then he grabs another leaf and does the same thing. He looks around and up to the line he goes. As he looks and feels confident, he flies higher into the tree. He stays there until he is sure no one has seen him prepare his winter stash……and off he goes.  
Having an opportunity to see this activity is a blessing for sure. Our lives are usually so busy that moments like this can be a blur in comprehension of our surroundings. I understand this is how they stash food for the winter, and they are intelligent enough to know exactly every spot they put their food. I can’t remember where I put my sunglasses half the time, so kudos to the bird population. It intrigues me to watch them enjoy life. The wings of birds, butterflies and of course dragonflies give me a feeling of peace. I have never forgotten when I experienced a hummingbird mating dance right in my backyard in Lynnwood…again it was a moment given by God to view his wonders. 
There are times we are able to look in the right spot at that right time. I hope to hear stories of moments in time where you experienced something wonderful like this and will share it with everyone.
Preparing for winter, it can be work but it does carry its pleasure.