Reflections from an Open Window
Linda Raha's Writing Corner
The years come and go, but the heart always remembers summer. It remembers the wide band of sand and sea, the cry of the seagulls, the sensation of warm sand between your toes. The heart remembers the little Sandpiper upon the shoreline, and the Hermit crab who pops up now and again to survey the
I watched the birds this morning out on our back deck; like us, they are endlessly busy, darting here and there, not satisfied with one particular perch. As they move from spot to spot, they find a new vantage point. The world does look different from a tree-top, or the tip of my patio table