Feeling a bit like I have been hit by a TRUCK — every day, more STARK reminders of the enormity of the responsibilities that I have accepted. I try and distract myself. Pull out old photos, finding some from our trip to Morocco.   Among the many things that were new to me, it was the first time I had seen STORK nests, high up on the tops of chimneys and turrets. I miss that season of life. Travel was the norm, new discoveries were around every corner, and all things seemed possible. 

Georg’ann

CLEAR air this morning 
Slightly cool, less humid. 
Not even close to fall crisp 
yet wafting harbinger of FROST. 
Brings back the STORY 
of your August arrival. 

It was just before dawn, as promised.
STORM in distance, rolling 
thunder growls like gentle tiger 
sleeping. Wind had picked up.
Worrisome. Flight a challenge
for all winged things. Please no delay.
Shipment due by STORK delivery. 

We paced, fretted. Time slowed. 
Glances out the window. Nothing. 
Ready to give in to exhaustion. 
Then a flash of white in the dark
sky, visible in hint of early light. 
Great elegance swooping to porch
with bundle secure in her beak. 

She laid you carefully beside 
the swing, rapped the door, 
then spread her wings for take off,
long, thin legs trailing behind. 
Reverently we opened the door,
walking toward new life.

Heather