Boundaries

It’s pouring, I tell y’all. Pouring! A tempest. A typhoon. A piney-woods tidal wave with impressive lightning bolts and thunder which both crashes and growls. Something’s angered the gods and boy howdy they’re letting us know. The ducks are loving it but the donkeys, not so much. I’ve microwaved a cup of coffee from yesterday’s …

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While You’re At Home…

Hey there y'all -- during this time of uncertainty, I want to urge y'all to take time to connect with yourselves. It's incredibly easy to get sucked into the news cycles, (not that you should be uninformed...but it's also a risk of becoming addicted to and overwhelmed by it, so take breaks) and if you're …

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Brakes

I’ve no idea the time of day. Through the slits in the shutters it’s light, but dim. Maybe it’s cloudy or maybe we’re dipping towards the evening. I really have no idea. Although I can’t see them, I know my eyes are swollen because even that dusty blue light trickling in burns the backs of …

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Polka-Dots

I know of a shore that harbors magic: an old, forgotten magic that lies dormant beneath the rocks and pebbles of all shades and sizes. They sit atop the sand at least two feet deep and two miles long. In my memory, I return there often. The Atlantic whips the coast with salty daggers and …

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Sweet Girl

For the third day in a row, it’s pouring. My grumpy donkeys huddle together in the barn as the rain batters the tin roof so loud that it rattles my bones---it must be deafening to their large ears. After piling their feeders with extra hay in lieu of typical grazing time, I pull the hood …

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sit

you want to perch upon that branch the one which overlooks the meadow where even when it rains, rabbits skip between flowers, unbothered but to rest to observe means stillness silence steadiness you can't grip the mug between your hands without spilling over the edges shaking unconscious unconscious so sit. sit with it. sit with …

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Afternoon Pause

It’s a typical late-Texas summer on an early, weekday afternoon where leaves hang completely still from the treetops. The chickens have dug small holes outside of their coop in which to rest (the dirt beneath the surface being much cooler than anywhere else they may find) while the ducks drift gently in their pond with …

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Sunflower’s Story

There once was a patch of sunflowers (10 stems, to be exact) who divvied themselves upon either side of the walkway through a garden. Some said they were oddly placed, but the sun shined strongest right there along that path and as we all know, sunflowers not only need, but love the sunlight. For weeks, the …

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Softness

I’m sitting in my spot---the one in the far, left nook of the couch by the window that looks out towards the donkey’s barn and pasture---as my coffee cools and the night is swelling into its final, heavy moments before the prick of dawn. I spent the fifteen or so minutes before this trying to …

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Waiting out the Storm

It’s an East Texas downpour out there---the kind where I know that somewhere beyond the endless sheets of rain is a brown barn that inside, must be awfully loud beneath a tin roof, although I can’t see more than a blur of gray and swaying, green smudges that are the swelling leaves of new, spring …

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