Seaweed

Seeing rubbery tendrils of seaweed on the beach always make me think of clam digging. To be more precise, it makes me think of one particular time I went clam digging at Morro Bay with my family -- Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa. Even my great-grandparents once dug clams here. My dad and aunt on the beach in Cayucos circa 1926. Armed with clamming forks that looked like small pitchforks and burlap feed bags in which to put their catch, they would set …

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Lacing Up My Shoes Of Peace

"How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the herald, who proclaims peace, who brings news of good things who proclaims salvation, who says to Zion,  'Your God reigns!'" Isaiah 27:7 HCSB Peace seems to elude me of late.  Unsettling questions, what ifs and scary possibilities have crowded into my space. So today, I am seeking peace on my patio, where my hydrangeas bloom in cool shades of pink and blue. Tomato vines thrive in early summer heat, lush green, offering a promise of sweet fruit to come. Even my sweet peas continue to bloom past the point …

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Small Moments

My best times are defined by small moments. I don't require lots of activity or massive events. My most memorable times, and the things that make me happy years later, are small. The gentle sound of water lapping on shore. The rustle of the wind through evergreens and aspens The hard, cool, smooth surface of an ancient lichen-mottled rock supporting my back. The friendly bond among hikers -- and the dawdlers, like me -- and the genuine …

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