travel

Down by the Sea Shore

Or, He Says She Says She Sells Seashells Down by the Seashore

Have you ever had one of those inspired moments, where you realize you don’t want to be where you are for another second? Just such a feeling overwhelmed us last week. After days and days on end of rain and gloom, Atlanta was feeling rather oppressive. So, just like that, we decamped to our favorite spot on the Gulf of Mexico ~ Santa Rosa Island.[…]

Or, Follow the Yellow Brick Road

This is one of my favorite images from my tenure in New Mexico. When I’m feeling particularly squeezed by life’s seemingly impossible demands, I find myself seeking this image out in my archives. For me, it represents complete freedom.

Or, Wake Up ~ Your Life is Calling

View from ‘my’ bedroom window at my parent’s house, 6:30 am Saturday October 3, 2009. Sometimes it pays to wake up early. What a gift. What a surprise. I love this little patch of heaven on earth. You can HEAR the breeze through the trees and the tall grass murmuring. It is such a respite from the intensity of the city. I want this life. It doesn’t have to be in exactly this place, but I want this life.

Or, How a Cheap Camera and a Thousand Dollars Worth of Software Can Work For You

My parents are retired, but not retiring. As a matter of fact, they’ve begun to range far and wide. Over this past summer, they set off on what I’ve begun to refer to as their Grand Adventure. They recently purchased a gigantic ‘Monster Bus’, a sort of land yacht RV thing, the type of thing you might see certain rock stars ensconced in. My mother had never seen the great American west or southwest and it had been decades since my father had. They set off on a 45 day ‘walk about’, following the setting sun.[…]

Or, No Really – Home is Where the Mom Is

My family is going through a bit of a rough patch right now. Nothing I care to go into on the world wide web, but it is painful enough for us to have circled the wagons and drawn closer to each other. This particular passage in life has turned my thoughts to home and hearth. Odd, isn’t it, how many of us most often think of home as ‘Mom’s’ place? I mean, Daddy lives there too. Always has. But really though, truth be told, it’s Mother’s house.

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Or, The Dead Help us Know We’re Alive

On a recent trip to Boone, North Caroline, we stumbled upon two very old cemeteries. There is something about finding an old gravestone from someone who has already been in the ground for 131 years, that just puts you right in your place. We get to thinking that we and our troubles, causes and concerns are so important. And then, BAM! You realize that none of it will matter in 100 years. Kind of puts it all into perspective.

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Or, Seeing Wildlife Other than Street Hustlers and Junkies is a Good Thing

I know I mentioned it before, that we live in the heart of urban Midtown, Atlanta. I can honestly say I am glad to have had this experience.

When I was younger, oh so much younger, I used to daydream about all the different ways I wanted to experience living. One of them was that fantasy of living right in the heart of a vibrant city, wherein I would walk right down to the street and skip happily along, just like Marlo Thomas in That Girl. I’d stroll past fresh flower vendors, shop at my local corner grocer, frequent my neighborhood coffee shop slash bookstore and bump into friends, neighbors and acquaintances all along the way, as I made my way to a fabulous city park for a bench with a view. Hmmmm…..don’t forget the baguette and fragrant cheese either.