a wish for the new year

I hope that next year
is filled
with sunlight
fresh produce
a working car
somewhere to go
laughter

and a loved one
trying to capture it.

for everyone.

not fists

My three-year-old nephew, Elliott
and his four-year-old friend, Evan
raise their cupped hands high
pointed toward each other
when they want a hug
from across the yard.

We picked it up
immediately.

the soothing green and white

i love these shakers
my mother has owned them
for decades.

i don't think she has
ever used them
though.

the weak sunlight
outside
falling on the green and white
inside

and
my camera
simply
has to follow.

scuffed and still going

i have walked so many miles in these shoes.

the red shoes have traipsed across new york
alaska
arizona
los angeles
london
seattle
too many classrooms to count
vashon.

lately, every time i look down
i see that one foot is on the edge
lifted
poised to pounce.

since i took this picture
i have been trying to remind
myself
to stand on both feet
firmly on the ground.

calming to the eye

People on the street have forgotten the reason.

Driving him to work, a woman behind us pressed her hand to the horn,
five minutes straight,
because a car blocked her way.

Where is she going?

Too much gaudiness in the season.

I like having something simple,
a place where my eyes can rest.

sleeping sweetly

i just love this photo of him sleeping.
late morning.
sun coming through the windows.
a fresh pot of coffee brewing.

he was smiling in his sleep.

bleak winter branches, surrounded by light

winter feels bleak but necessary.

with all the leaves fallen off the trees,
it is easier to see the sky.