Reflections from an Open Window
Linda Raha's Writing Corner
How frozen was the world of late! The icicles clung for days on end, sculpted by an artist's hand. A sea of sparkling glass glittered upon the lawn... How the trees shimmered: ice-glazed perfection. Sleeping, sleeping, sleeping, is the earth beneath this crystal sea. No need to wake as yet; spring will surely come. A
The wind is playing in the trees... I love to hear that sound. The wind stirs, and the branches sway, each instrument perched just so. If all the world were a forest, how peaceful it might be. We enter a cathedral, and music floods the room, flittering birds, and fluttering leaves, filling every pew. Still,
The rains have come cleansing the earth washing this lovely green canvas speckled with early autumn's yellow leaves. It is a blur today through the rain-streaked windows; summer is fading and autumn is making her debut. My Hibiscus is happy, so much rainwater nurturing this tropical beauty with flaming red flowers. It is so very
Yellow leaves and golden sun... The September trees are set in a halo of light. Yellow flowers, like little stars sit upon the pumpkin vines just waiting to be pumpkins. It is too early for all of that... There is bliss in the September garden summer flowers holding on as if summer would never end.
I think sometimes that June is just a wisp of a thing... No sooner does it begin before there is the countdown to the Fourth of July. It is the month of weddings and graduations and parties on green, grassy lawns. And so it is, the days slip by, fields of yellow buttercups in the
The garden sleeps beneath the winter sky. Above, the stars twinkle in a knowing way. Do they know what the garden dreams in the deep of the night? Does the garden dream in shades of blue, the remembrance of the summer sky, the slate-blue haze of wintry days? At night, the sky is a sea
I used to dream of living by the sea on a high cliff. I would look down, and there it would be.... The ocean spread out before me, waves crashing upon the shore. When the water rushes back and forth across a pebble beach... there is music. The sound of the sea plays again and
Dust off your dreams, unclutter your mind, and begin again. Like attic treasures, long forgotten, our dreams whisper in the corridors of our days. In the morning light, brush away the cobwebs the stagnant mist of things undone. The dreams, they shimmer in the sunlight. They dance at the hint of dawn in the far-away
Yesterday, I looked out my kitchen window, and there in all of its glory, was a stunning red cardinal. Against the backdrop of brown leaves and barren tree limbs, he stood out in bold perfection. I wandered outdoors and discovered that more of my daffodils were in full bloom. We expect freezing rain this coming
The green leaves of summer are gone; all that greenery, simply vanished overnight. Or is it that just the way it seems, when November dawns and a new chapter begins? We mark the pages with autumnal gold and write all sorts of notes in the margins. There are so many things we want to remember