The rain is falling softly outside as the afternoon stretches into the night before Christmas. While our winter wonderland might not be white, the spirit of Christmas is strong in our hearts.
Music of Memory
Life in the City of Dreams ebbs and flows. I was in the car one evening on the way to Inglewood I think; a drive I’ve sat through more than twice.
Voyagers
We are at the beach once again but it’s a different beach today. Perhaps it’s because the months have turned to December and the seasons have slid into their final movement of the year.
Looking At Time
We took that trip to see more of America. Early one morning we bundled into my husband’s car, children, bags, dog and all, leaving home in the rear view mirror, at least for a while.
Slivers Of A Singing Moon
In the current time of loss and shrinkage of our humanity, the song of the eternal poet has been stalking my thoughts. What does he make of our intrusive silence I often wonder.
A Village Under The Sky
I was driving yesterday. Through the pink evening of an unfolding Los Angeles sunset. Driving at times like these, the magical dimension of the place appears.
Silvery Somewhere
A silver path to somewhere floats away into the horizon; streaming through the rolling waves. Two small figures dance in silhouette against the sunlit ocean.
Lavender Dreams
The light has been extraordinary this past week in our little quarter of Los Angeles. A pale lavender luminescence that has cast a dream like glow through us all.
What Can I Do?
We’re out and about early with the dog these days. Sunlight usually glimmers way up above a city that hasn’t quite woken up yet. The water in the fountain sits, still and serene and the restaurants and shops are silent.
Return of Speed
Back in our favourite spot, on a supremely hot Labour Day weekend, we sit in contented silence. After a stretch where our feet only lightly touched the ground, it’s enough just to enjoy the ocean.
Shapes Of Time
Heading out from Rouffignac before dawn on a darkly foggy road, we leave the lights of summer weeks spent with those dear to us behind.
Light Thoughts
She sits in a quiet garden. The morning is suspended in a cool grey which whispers of a mist hanging low over an ocean not far away.