There can be so much truth hidden in so few words - like a prayer or a song or a small bit of enlightenment.
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There are those that live for adventure and travel-but me, I love coming home.
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ove claims its own acreage -and for each of us the landscape is different. I read on Facebook posts of endless love – and each is diverse.
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. I guess that’s what it is-that’s where the heartache lingers. Home has always been – more than enough.
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My father taught us all to crab and clam and fish. A most magical time was going ‘fire-lighting’ slipping out at night and paddling around the creek with a lantern clamped onto the edge of the old row boa
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I have this feeling that we will all be remembered by the things we love and how we reflect them in the world.
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I have my ‘necessary’ stuff, my ‘just in-case’ stuff, my ‘you never know if you’re going to need it’ stuff and ‘wouldn’t it be nice if I have time for this’ stuff
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