by Deb Farris | Jul 19, 2018 | Musings, Poetry
It is anchored there, like a buoy of protection, informing me of my inability and limitations, as if to say, “Do not swim beyond this point, silly child.” The ropes, north and south, define the boundaries. But I am stubborn, the sea beyond looks bluer. The sun...
by Deb Farris | Jul 16, 2018 | Devotions, Musings
Have you ever had an unexpected guest travel along side you as you take a walk—-in front, behind, above, beside and bop you on the head kind of guest? Funny Monarch. Nature’s tinker bell, spiritual symbol, life’s reminder of hope sometimes knows it has to stick around...
by Deb Farris | Jul 14, 2018 | Devotions, Musings, Poetry
My eyes follow the ants marching in a straight line up the side of the house heading toward the kitchen window after first discovering them assembled in clusters beneath the pots of oregano, basil and fennel that I keep forgetting to snip for our summer suppers and I...
by Deb Farris | Jul 10, 2018 | Memoir, Musings, Pets
Our impulse “Ca-Ching”, love at first site, there’s no turning back now, pet store purchase 15 years ago, is now snoozing away his Sunday afternoon on the couch—as long as I stay beside him. If I move, he follows. He had a couple belly flops today and seems a...
by Deb Farris | Jul 4, 2018 | Memoir, Musings, Poetry
There is a place we used to go every summer, where wind blows off the lake, cooling sun-parched skin from day’s labor, where deer nibble on grass outside your window, where children with toughened feet run gleefully across a stoney beach, anxious for fireworks. There...
