Reflections from an Open Window
Linda Raha's Writing Corner
Pockets of joy overflow, in the coming of sun-kissed summer days. There will be peppers to stuff, and fresh tomato sandwiches to eat. It is a fiesta of colors, marigolds and zinnias, snapdragons, and more. We fill our buckets at the strawberry patch; my pockets are stained with ripe, red berries. The dandelion seeds will
I love my garden; I love my blue sky for a roof. I love the decor of my garden room; the colors blend in a lovely way, deep red tomatoes, bright yellow sunflowers, and pale green cucumbers. The trellis is so magical, weaving vines, like a tapestry upon a wall; I am at home here.
The blooms of summer are lovely, but the loveliest blooms in life are the ones that never fade. My daughter in law, Elicia, lost her grandmother a week ago. She passed away in her late eighties, after leading a full and active life. Elicia spoke highly of her grandmother and paid her this tribute: "My
It has been a morning of endless chores; drifts of laundry piled up and ready for play on the merry-go-round, errant belongings all gone astray. I think of Sanibel Island and I might be there picking shells today; or maybe, I could go to that beach in California, all made up of sea glass. I
I wait each and every year for my blue hydrangea to bloom. Only then, will it be June; only then, will I know that summer is on its way. It is such a lovely thing, with deep-green velvet leaves, and the bluest flowers you have ever seen. The blossoms tug at my heart, the remembrance