



MARVELING!
The incredibly aromatic blossoms of Jasmine are beginning to say their goodbyes here in historic district Savannah.

I will miss them sorely, although their stalwart greenery will stay to keep guard.
Awakening me from my sadness and reminding me that all is not forlorn, along comes Hydrangea, seemingly popping up everywhere I walk, especially this cool Monday morning.








My weekly gratitude journal, of sorts.
1. Reflective spoons.

See me?

2. Being married to a gay man who likes cut flowers… THROUGHOUT the house.
Today, for example …









3. The incredible gift of being able to see. To open my eyes each morning, look around and actually see! What a joy.

4. Celebrating a month, dedicated to our mental health.


And for anyone who is interested, here’s a link to my “Protocol for Anxiety.” As many folks do, I deal with Generalized Anxiety Disorder from time to time. These strategies help.
https://www.icloud.com/notes/02b2DzJouQVaWQhKKlzyDFnCw
5. Friday!


“Yellow”






I have recently started getting a beautiful weekly poem service provided by a pre-retirement colleague of mine from Georgia Southern University.
This week’s poem is titled, “Perseverance Prayer.”
“There is no one who has not their hour and no thing that has not its place.” —Pirkei Avot, 4:3
Perseverance Prayer
Be it rug or couch or bed, the dog
can’t help but turn and turn and turn again
before lying down, his angle always
a little off, the vantage never
quite as desired. Still the ritual persists.
Yet once in a prairie gone tall
with summer, high grass whispering
with afternoon breeze, he began—one, two,
three times around—and the stalks found
new joints with each of his orbits, swaying,
kneeling, prostrating away from him into
a massive golden wreath, an ideal bed.
A pursuit others call pointless is often just
the right action in need of its right place.
–Jessica Jacobs
from Unalone (Four Way Books, 2024)

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I feel that I am going round and round and round in circles and not exactly sure where to land.
But I believe there is a “right place.”



One of the joys of living in downtown historic district Savannah is that the walks NEVER get old. And are ongoingly (Is that a word?) beautiful.
The other day, Robert had a chiropractor appointment nearby, so I went with him, but then took the opportunity to walk around that particular little neighborhood.
Here’s a sampling of what I saw.




My favorite house I came across:


And look at its side yard!


And here’s a little place, still with a bit of character.






Okay, HR’s finished. Gotta go.



A blog category about finding “art” in unexpected places and situations.
So the other morning I sat down with HR to my breakfast of ham cubes (well, that’s what they look like, right?), eggs and toast.

Sleepily took a bite of toast …

… and spotted the rare GrapeJelly Splattered Scrubwren!

Sadly, birdlike, she didn’t linger on my plate very long before “flying” away.

This morning we picked up breakfast sandwiches and coffee and headed over to Savannah’s beautiful Bonaventure Cemetery for a forenoon (Isn’t that a cool word?) picnic.
Walking afterwards, we came across her …


“What’s going on here?” I quietly asked.
(I had to repeat my question several times before she answered me.)

I had to lean in to hear her.
“Angeling is hard work.”
I simply nodded and motioned for Robert to soundlessly move along.

