Today I was sitting at my computer and I heard conversation approaching my house...it became louder and louder the closer it got to my front door. A smile started to appear across my face. I knew exactly who its was, you see, these same two delightful african american ladies come to my door every so often. They tap tap tap gently on the door their conversation is always louder than the tapping and they never skip a beat, eager to get to the next point that needs to be said. They never look at the door to see me peeking out of the lifted blind, they are busy discussing things and mingling their verbal intentions with " you know that's right!" , tilting the head and raising the eyebrows before saying "well, I'm tellin' you" . Their presence is always brief, they never knock twice and like a dance they do from memory they walk off to the next house still talking and enjoying each others company. Always left behind is a reminder of my salvation that they tucked in the door that usually falls out with the first gentle wind and finds a place along the seasonal flowers at my entrance.
If I ever answer the door I suppose they will mark me off their list and I would miss hearing them coming towards my door and I would miss experiencing the excitement they have for each others company. These two dear ladies will never know the joy they bring to unopened doors. What sweet spirits they are. When your heart is set on good intentions you leave blessing trailing behind you like ribbons in the wind. When God calls just go.....He's working , you may not always see the results.

Beauty fades, and its important to have something in your spirit that can shine through and take its place.. The eyes of people favor the beautiful but the heart of people favors the kind. I can only hope to be something of value to behold when all is said and done.

I took a break from working today and walked around my yard. I found some great things to capture in some photos. A knot hole on a tree shaped like a heart, some very pretty amber colored moss growing up a tree, rain drops captured in a tin...y webb deep beneath some leaves and I also took the shot below....... I love the hodge podge of things I saw when I looked down. The speckled pattern on a Magnolia leaf, the golden colors of the scattered leaves, the brown curled up leaf holding rain water from last nights rain, the pretty patterns on the Magnolia pods, all ready to return to the ground, discarded by the magnificent tree above, a circle of life captured within it all by the new green growth pushing through the middle of it all.
While I wander through the rooms of my tiny home carrying with me concerns of tomorrow, beyond the walls I am surrounded by life taking things as it comes, resisting nothing and excepting what is...the course of nature all held together by a Master plan. I have much to learn from the Magnolia, from the soft moss on the trees and the rain gently cradeled in the leaf.

Most of us keep our thoughts on something in the past or thinking about the future. We only have this present moment. However you spend the moment ...the only requirement is love.

Photo by COHolley

A plane in the sky is not a great photo moment although I do like how the sun appears in the shot. This photo reminds me of something I read by Thomas Merton. The sky was still before the plane passed through and it remained still after it is gone. Perhaps a reminder to focus on the still peace within our selves, the peace and stillness is there before the situation, and within your being is there during the situation and will remain afterwards. The still and peaceful place we would reside if we were lifted up on the wings of eagels.

My husband John Stafford was a highly accomplished musician and did physical things on drums some people only dreamed of. He played double bass drums faster than a locomotive and moved the drum sticks over his drum set so fast you couldn't see them in his hands. When he played drums he drove people fast up on their feet screaming for more. He could tap dance long into his years , taught from the finest of dancers. He played violin at an early age and loved the classics. When we listened to music he would say to me " Listen, tell me what you hear, how may instruments and what are they." His heart was an orchestra.
He spent many of his last years in a wheel chair. He said to me one day in a low and gentle voice "People treat you different when you're in a wheel chair." He was saddened and surprised at the reality of it.
When you see someone with a disability don't look away, you can't hear their music but it's there, you cant see their melody but it plays. Just look them in the eye and smile.
Make the world a better place one intention at a time.

Never build your entire life around another human being. If they should leave you your life will feel like empty pockets. Have your own circle of friends. Find something you are passionate about and keep it close to you. Carry a melody in your heart that belongs to only you. Never give it all away.
COHolley

I wonder how many people were so busy today that they never looked up and saw this beautiful sky. It stopped me in my tracks... nothing but pure blue sky, soft clouds and sunshine. That pause, however brief it is, is an instant of peace. So welcomed and so appreciated.

When I was a child the bridge over these tracks was an old wooden bridge, worn and bleached out from the hot South GA. sun ,with rusty nails holding it together and a few loose boards. My grandmother lived a block from the bridge. As children, when we heard the train whistle blowing farther down the tracks through the tall Georgia pines, it was saying "I'm almost there, hurry! hurry! Im almost... there!!" We would drop what ever we were doing and run as fast as we could and stand on the bridge as the train rumble inches from our small dirty bare feet, out of breath from running so fast, and hands grasping the bridges railing. The massive power of the train vibrating through our bodies was thrilling and scary at the same time.
I don't find myself running towards life so much these days and things seem more scary than thrilling. But if I close my eyes, I find that freckled faced little girl who was happy just being Carmen and that's a good place to be, however brief my memory serves me.

New Orleans Street Car

 

These are the brass handles of seats on an old street car in New Orleans. I took this picture because I thought of all the hands that have held on over the years standing in the street car waiting for their jump off spot. All the people that have actually sat on that very seat over 150 years before, and now me after them.. Some with a burden, some with much hope and joy, most going some where, so...me with no where to go.The street car carried them through the streets of New Orlens with the smell of french pastries and shrimp creole, the jazz music flowing out of the doors of local bars and attaching itself to the filigree ironed patios and cobble stone streets. A simple street car bench touched by so many lives.