I’ve built my life around words:  planted them like seed, panned for them like gold.  I’ve gone out into green valleys and collected words like rainwater, storing them up for seasons of drought.  

This is what my kind of people do.


There are days when words feel too small for me — a poor, mealy-mouthed language too paltry to say what must be said.  On those days I dance.  I paint.  I reach for my camera.

And lately, I’ve found myself speaking wordless prayers.

So today, I’m praying this:


I want this, and this, and this:






I go out into the green world and I ask for what I see — for my soul and for yours.  

For the parts of us too wide and deep for talking.

I sit still, and I say nothing. ❤



    1. I almost forgot to ask, Derrick: do you know the name of my lovely pink rose in the bee picture?? It’s a very old one, planted by my home’s original owner. I’ve inherited a lot of neglected loveliness in my current home, & I wish I had names for what I find. I figure you of all people could help! 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

      1. There are so many, one would need a clearer picture of the rose, and loads of information, like is it a shrub? is it a climber? (it doesn’t look like one) does it have scent? how big is the plant? how many flowerings in a season? We can have a go if you can tell us a bit more.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Sure! (I knew I was asking the right person). This one isn’t a climbing rose, although it is very tall and leggy — but that may be because it’s located in partial shade. It’s taller than me – maybe six feet? – with very long stems. We get fragrant blooms twice a year – sometimes more – usually in late May and in August. Last year it put out a third wave in late September. The plant is a good 50 years old, and I’ll see if I can dig up any old photos of the blooms. 🙂

          Liked by 1 person

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