My clearest memory is my mother’s crescent-shaped blue eyes dancing while we taste freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and sip from cool glasses of milk. I feel her gathering me onto her lap because the boy I loved broke up with me. I hear the mellow dinner bell ringing in the backyard and her voice at twilight calling us to come in for supper. Her love did not overlook. Not one of us. Not once.
Blog
Lulled by a Late Snowfall: “Iowa Dreams”
A few days ago, snow dusted the southern landscape. Winter’s last blast showed up in a flurry of images on social media. Memory took me back to my time in Iowa. Yards seemed snowbound from November to March. I once stepped outside for a midnight sojourn in a still garden—and walked away with a poem.
Hope Peeps Eternal Thanks to the Persistent Crocus
“Where flowers bloom so does hope.” This quote by Lady Bird Johnson, who championed environmental conservation and wildflower beautification, always stuck with me. Crocuses pushing up from the snow (or bare ground) promises renewal. The spring equinox is almost upon us. The poem “Fauve Crocuses” marks the coming season.
After a Long Winter, Finding the Good: “Dwarf Iris Blessing”
I remember a garden in North Carolina where a field of dwarf irises announced the turn of the season. Low to the ground, they bear a humble sovereignty—worthy of regard, as are all living things. This memory inspired the poem “Dwarf Iris Blessing.”
The Beloved Designer Who Celebrated Trees All Year Long
As 2025 closed out, I sorted through a few images from my retired blog. The handiwork of Darryl Moland, a revered art director at Southern Living, Cooking Light, and other publications popped up. He had the rare gift to create something lovely that reminded us to treasure the time we have.