#Reverb11 Day 10: Beauty

Prompt: Beauty – Describe a moment of beauty that you witnessed this year.

Moments of Beauty


The late afternoon sun coming in through the window, filtering through half-closed blinds, flickering in the dust-mote air. The clock ticking away does not count time when I’m here with you.


Lying outside on the grass by the old tree before it died, lost in reading, until suddenly the wind chimes hanging on the branch sounded a deep tone–and I looked up and saw the white clouds sailing the blue sky.


Waiting breathlessly for the first chord to play again, this newest song gripping me by the heart, soul, mind. My existence is transfixed, my senses gone cosmic, exploding in color and vibe and tone. Exultant. Transcendent. Hitting “play” again.


Worrying that my guinea pig, who is getting on in years, is not moving as much as he used to, then putting him on the floor one day and seeing him hop and skip and twist in mid-air just like he used to.


Those nights when everyone seems to be on the same wavelength, here or around the world, and all the understanding you crave comes flooding right back to you.

Fabulous reverb11 badge made here.

Who I Am Thankful For: You!

Today was supposed to be a day of rest; resting up before the big feast, that is. Soon enough we’ll going to the parents-in-law for Thanksgiving dinner where I’ll be breaking some of my macrobiotic rules in the name of togetherness while we all still can be together. And I won’t mind it a bit.

Then I read Ty Unglebower’s My 2011 MVPs post and to my surprise and pleasure, I was on his list, included in what I consider to be exalted company. I know some of them, some I don’t, but it inspired me to check them all out, because Ty is one of those discerning individuals whose good opinion is valuable to have.

As are his blog post ideas. Suddenly all I could think about was who I’m thankful for, too! I’m taking the liberty of assuming my family knows how I feel (love you all!), so I dedicate this post to my friends. Here we go!

I lost a friend to leukemia

Yesterday, we went to a service for a friend who passed away on October 7.  She was 37. She had leukemia.

She was a fighter, this friend; a straight-between-the-eyes, no-nonsense woman who took no prisoners, as that great saying goes, and yet with no contradiction at all was capable of great love, laughter and spirit.

She’d been fighting this disease with all of her strength, ever positive, through a year or so of days that were very good and days that were very not. Then she was back in the hospital, still fighting.

And one day her boyfriend posted on Facebook that she wasn’t expected to make it another day.

People sent their love, prayers and positive vibes. She hung on.

And then, it was over.

That funeral home was packed. Extra chairs had to be found and there were still people standing all over the hall.

It wasn’t easy to experience, but it was powerful and lovely, and something I’m glad I didn’t miss. While we were handed a card full of Psalms and route responses, all carefully genericized to offend the least, a rather cool Native American man led the service.

This meant we got sage burning, people sharing their thoughts, and the final thought that Native Americans look at death a little differently.

While completely cognizant of loss and pain and suffering from those of us left behind, he had a more joyous view of life after death than we were perhaps accustomed to.

“When you see a flower,” he told us, “You’ll see her. When you see a lake or an ocean, she’ll be with you. Turn around–she’s there.”

That felt good. That person in the box at the front of the room–that wasn’t her. The person within us–that was.

A few more thoughts