Thank you, Annie. I’ve been thinking about all of us writers who go on retreat and then have to re-enter. I’m in that space now. Brent’s quiet too. Boys went home this morning. Hard to say good bye. You know about that.
I love my alone time and I know you do too, Bar. I also loved your post, however, when I watched the video of those two cute kids, it made me nervous that the tide might pull a fast one and scoop one of them away!
sorry to unsettle your stomach with that video, Jackie. I had the same reaction. If I'd thought they were in real danger I would have gone out there, but the danger was mostly an illusion. Also, there were adults you couldn't see watching very close by. I just marveled at the kids' enjoyment and tenacity. Their pyramid collapsed many times so they just started over. No frustration whatsoever. If only I could be like that!
Haiku! Found a few of those in my pile of poems. I love that you're hugging your castle. And the alliteration. Ah, the alliteration! My father used to start his quarterly newsletters with a haiku. I liked that phase of his writing a lot. I have a friend named Prescilla Harlin-Legnori who writes haiku almost exclusively. It's always a treat to read them. Always something to contemplate without needing a lot of time to read. It's the contemplating part of poetry that I like so much. Thank you for this, Doris.
I just love our incomparably beautiful, completely public coastline!
One of the best things ever done for the people. I love it. So grateful.
You put me right there with your friend. Lovely piece/peace.
Thank you, Annie. I’ve been thinking about all of us writers who go on retreat and then have to re-enter. I’m in that space now. Brent’s quiet too. Boys went home this morning. Hard to say good bye. You know about that.
You have inspired me to think about doing my own solo coastal adventure sometime. Than you!
It’s so important, Linda. I hope you can do it. So good for you to make time.
Thank you for sharing the peace and tranquility Bar. The ocean speaks to us - from there we came and there we return. Peace to you. ❤️
Peace to you too, Bill. Thank you.
I love my alone time and I know you do too, Bar. I also loved your post, however, when I watched the video of those two cute kids, it made me nervous that the tide might pull a fast one and scoop one of them away!
sorry to unsettle your stomach with that video, Jackie. I had the same reaction. If I'd thought they were in real danger I would have gone out there, but the danger was mostly an illusion. Also, there were adults you couldn't see watching very close by. I just marveled at the kids' enjoyment and tenacity. Their pyramid collapsed many times so they just started over. No frustration whatsoever. If only I could be like that!
They were truly joyful, Bar. And I loved that!
Three days without speaking to anyone, and the poems got sorted on top of it. Hope the small book happens.
Thank you, Zachary. I hope it does too. Sometimes I wonder why but then I can just as easily wonder, why not?
It was good to be quiet for so long. A relief more than anything else.
Hugging my castle
built of sand blasted by the surf -
life in flurried flux.
Haiku! Found a few of those in my pile of poems. I love that you're hugging your castle. And the alliteration. Ah, the alliteration! My father used to start his quarterly newsletters with a haiku. I liked that phase of his writing a lot. I have a friend named Prescilla Harlin-Legnori who writes haiku almost exclusively. It's always a treat to read them. Always something to contemplate without needing a lot of time to read. It's the contemplating part of poetry that I like so much. Thank you for this, Doris.