And life goes on

I hadn’t been back to the Hand of God Tree since I discovered it had crashed into the Chattahoochee River. But so much has happened and I feel like it is my Grandmother Willow (from the Disney movie Pocahontas) and so I rode Magic there yesterday. Stunned by the late-summer beauty of the full-flowered meadow,…

9/11 (again)

I sit here quietly in the dark of morning and wait for the bells to ring at the local church or on TV or in my heart, as they have on 9/11* every year for most of my children’s  lives. 8:46. 9:03. 9:37. 9:59. 10:03. 10.28. It’s coming. It will flood me with emotion. I…

Back there again

A chill in the air, the day’s light fading, my streamers flew as I pedaled frantically down the path that leads to my secret alcove where the Hand of God Tree waits for me. I always hold my breath a second as I turn the corner, worrying that one day when I come it will…

I go back

I go back to the Hand of God Tree every time I need a reminder that it is there. Which lately is more often.  

Back to the tree

Hurricane Harvey. Hurricane Irma. Nukes in North Korea. Fires in Los Angeles, where my older daughter now lives. Trump’s intention to end the Dreamer program. The constant nasty, negative attacks on everyone and everything that have become somehow normalized. Health challenges of family members. Feeling needed and useless at the same time. The hunger to…