Tag: family

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Black Rock Mountain Stop

On the way home from visiting my brother in Bethlehem, North Carolina last weekend, we made two quick stops at campgrounds in North Georgia: Tallulah Gorge and Black Rock Mountain. These are two of my favorites for scenery alone – – particularly Black Rock Mountain, which is Georgia’s highest elevation state park and is on the eastern continental divide. It’s quite a car-climb to get there, and we wanted to scope out the campsites to see which might be our favorite one to try to reserve. You can read more about Black Rock Mountain State Park here. Tallulah Gorge is also a gorgeous campground, and we love its unique history with Karl Wallenda having walked across. Both are located near the town of Clayton, Georgia, which has many wonderful eateries and even a meadery downtown. We like the farm-to-table chefs who change the menus based on what’s fresh and in season.

We’re ready for the summer, for some travel and relaxed pacing of days to be able to read in the hammock and sit around the campfire under the stars. These are the times we look most forward to – – – slow travel, relaxed days, dog walks and leisurely morning coffee seeping down to firefly dusk. There are cottages (including dog-friendly cottages) here, too! If you’re ever in Black Rock Mountain State Park in Georgia and looking for a place to make memories, Cottage 5 looks like the one I’d recommend…..

Black Rock Acrostic

Brunch in the late morning

Lingering over coffee

Afterglow horizon sunsets

Camping on Black Mountain

Keeping it simple

Reading, talking, holding presence

On Black Mountain

Camping in the clouds

Knowing each moment

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When We Can Read, We Can Do Things

I’ve been watercolor painting step-by-step from paint-on-page instructional books on weekends, writing haiku, and relaxing in the paint peace. A Slice of Life blogger shared her Emily Lex watercolor workbook in March, and it reminded me of the one I’d seen in a shop in Woodstock, Vermont but didn’t buy because of the lack of luggage space. And then I was drawn back to wanting to (try to) paint.

It’s not like I’m talented or anything. Not naturally, anyway. But I can read and follow directions. It’s what I told a friend who once said she was glad her mother never taught her to cook so she would never be expected to. “If you can read, you can cook,” I assured her. And so it is with painting. If I can read, I can (try to) paint.

Fellow blogger Glenda Funk discovered she loved watercolor through a recent painting class I also signed up for, but my work life prevented my attending the actual classes, and in the midst of testing season I didn’t find the time in the evenings to go back and watch the recordings. Her paintings are vibrant and beautiful – the kind you can frame and put on your wall. When I’m retired, I will take a sure ’nuff painting class either online like Glenda or in person like fellow blogger Margaret Simon, who is also finding joy in the process. So does Anita Ferreri. Fellow blogger Debbie Lynn has also shared her gorgeous sketches and art forms, and more and more I’m inspired by all that our writing community does to express creativity through various forms of art. I wish we had an Art Market blogging day so we could share blog posts on how we blend writing and other art. I’d love to see more.

One flower new to me is a protea, and while I’ve never seen a protea in person, they remind me of a tall, thin water lily like on the logo above. Apparently the painting is relaxing me more than I realize. I came home from work yesterday all stirred up over an issue, and after listening to me whine for a while, my husband said, “You just need to sit down and paint.”

And I was relieved that he didn’t say, “You just need to cook.” He is alive and well this morning because of it.

Protea Haiku

pink, red, yellow, white

nectar-rich cone-shaped flower

South African bloom!

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Open Write

Erica and Jessica of Arkansas are our hosts today for the third and final day of the Open Write for May 2026 at http://www.ethicalela.com. They inspire us to write “found” poems not by finding lines or words from other poets by collecting thoughts and ideas of things we find. You can read their full prompt here. It’s a lot like taking a nature walk and instead of collecting pine cones or stones or feathers, poets collect moments and feelings to share.

I visited my brother on Lake Hickory over the weekend, so this morning I’m scrolling back through my photos for my “walk” back through the weekend.

Welcome to North Carolina

Welcome sign greets us into the state

we pull into the driveway overlooking the lake

artist’s palette sunset, dock, pool,

a sloping hill for dogs to play

Mojave sun hat on the boat

tritoon power fast afloat

Ospreys soar and dive for fish

songbirds, praise chimes, fountain wish

boats on sandbar, toasting dreams

wallowing in warm sunbeams

but one more stop while traveling home

Malaprops for treasure-tomes

And then two more,

Black Rock Mountain, Tallulah Gorge

but back to work, a life to forge…..

.

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Open Write Day 2 of May 2026: Trees

Erica of Arkansas is our host today for the second day of the Open Write at http://www.ethicalela.com. She’s shared an inspirational prompt about trees and invites us to write about them. You can read her full prompt here. Come join us and read the poems of others or write your own!

I’ve been dabbling in watercolor lately, and one thing I’ve realized is that leaves are not easy to paint. I’ve also tried drawing my own pictures to paint, but concluded I’m a long way away from that technique. So pages in the watercolor books that guide and tell. how to paint the subject are my best option for building confidence and learning techniques.

And while ferns are not trees, it’s a Watercolor Weekend! Here is a fern I painted (not dark enough, but at least it turned out somewhere in the green color family). I recently brought a fern in a turtle planter home from St. Simons Island, where we are cleaning Dad’s house and yard to prepare it to go on the market, and ferns were one of my mother’s favorite plants.

To My New Turtle Fern

Fern: from 322 Magnolia Avenue in a concrete turtle planter

Everything about you

Reminds me of Mom – and Fitz, who

Never met a turtle he didn’t like

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May 16 Open Write Place Based Poetry on a Watercolor Weekend

It’s a Watercolor Weekend and an Open Write weekend, too – and I wish I could have painted the sky last night, but instead I am sharing a painting I started earlier this week and have not yet finished – it’s a Lily of the Valley, and I chose it for the varied shades of blue I feel when I’m around all this water. I’m on the road, so I didn’t bring my paints with me in preference for spending time with my people this weekend. This one didn’t blend well, but I do like the colors.

Our host today for the May Open Write is Jessica, who lives in Arkansas. Today, she inspires us to write about places in our state – anywhere, but particularly considering any hidden or obscure places. I’m in a uniquely-named place this morning – not in my own state, but in North Carolina visiting my brother and sister-in-law, who just bought their dream home right on Lake Hickory. I asked him, “So your house is in Hickory?” He said “No, it’s close…..it’s a Taylorsville mailing address.” And then he elaborated. “It’s actually Bethlehem. Our place on the map is in Bethlehem, North Carolina.” Our late parents would be so proud – Dad, a preacher, and Mom’s favorite Christmas carol was O Little Town of Bethlehem.

It took my breath away when I rolled in just before sunset last night. The sky changed from a watercolor palette to vibrance the opacity of oil with its blues and oranges and pinks a purples. We sat with wineglasses in hand watching it. This morning, a heron and an osprey, already, waving hello with a thousand other birds looking for breakfast. And I saw the Osprey flying high change course, dip down, skim the surface, and catch a fish. It’s spectacular to watch and resembled the eagles I saw in Alaska swooping down for fish so much that it has me wondering…..have I seen an eagle this morning??

So I’m writing about morning lake activity here in Bethlehem, North Carolina

Bethlehem

I think I know

why His eye is on the sparrow

with all the other birds

far more majestic in flight

this tiny song sparrow

may not have the wingspan

of the eagle or the osprey

but it sings praises more

powerfully than all the rest

here in Bethlehem

where songbirds

know the best reason

to sing

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Watercolor Haiku: Thistle

Today and tomorrow, I’ll be working in my late parents’ house – replacing toilet seats and ceiling fans, scrubbing hard water stains out of toilet bowls, and hauling the last things off to the dump. I bristle at some of the memories in that house, when what I need to do is thistle at them. So I’m changing my mindset from bristling to thistling…..and I may even whistle while I thistle.

It’s all part of the grief process I’ve been in for the past year with the way Dad chose to live his remaining years, still holding tight to everything he ever owned, despite our repeated requests to help him divest himself of all that was in those seven storage rooms and crammed into his house. He never considered the mess he was leaving for his children – a newlywed son who has had more to do than to want to clean up a lifetime of someone else’s memories, and me – a daughter who lives five hours north and works full time. Ah, but I digress and bristle…..let me thistle instead.

The Symbolism of Thistle

bravery and strength~

I need to thistle myself

for the coming hours

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VerseLove Day 30: Closing Invitation

The final prompt for VerseLove 2026 yesterday was a touching invitation to write, sharing what our writing space has meant this month.

Sarah Donovan has a way of weaving community together like a cherished tapestry so that each voice and thought has a place, each poet shines. And I am in awe – of her, of her poetry, of every voice in my writing community that sustains me and brings joy to all my broken places. I can’t yet write or think or feel since Wednesday afternoon, when I had to hold my beloved Fitz for his last breath and release him…..but even without that little nose nudging me awake and those sweet little eyes staring into mine with full love, I’m better for having been Fitz’s person for the time we had him.

My buddy Fitz watching for deer

Celebrating Through The Tears: A Tribute to Poets in Community

my fingers won’t write
but one thing I know: poets
write hope in the grief

my heart won’t yet beat
but this I know: poets find
pulse in lifelessness

my breath won’t calm down
but what I know: poet friends
reach in, hold hands, sit

my eyes can’t see straight
but I know this: poet friends
jump in the tear pool 

my soul has a hole
and this I know: poet friends
share theirs to fill mine

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VerseLove Day 23: Lose, Loss, Lost

Our host today for the 23rd day of VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com is Scott McCloskey of Michigan, who inspires us to write poems of loss. You can read his full prompt here.

Enough

here you are, slumped

next to me

in our favorite

chair and a half

your warmth on my hip

resting peacefully

Gabapentin doing its work

for your pain

Thank God your

mouth is on the armrest

with one paw

protecting it

breathing the other way

with breath so bad

it might kill a buzzard

but for your human it’s

the sign of life

of your holding on

and already I know

chances are high that

your teeth and mouth ulcers

and bladder stones

may not be all that is lost

next week

I feel tears welling just

thinking about it

you, our rescue schnauzer

with no known age or past

all things uncertain except

one thing:

we are tenderly and fiercely

bonded, imprinted, paired

as forever buddies

you are here,

you are warm and safe,

and you are loved

in this moment

now

which is

enough

for this hour

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VerseLove Day 23: First Words

Denise Krebs lives in Yucca Valley, California, near Joshua Tree National Park. She is busy learning to write habeas corpus petitions and briefs to help immigrant neighbors, campaigning for a new congress person, and stocking the shelves of the best Friends of the Library bookshop in her area. She blogs at Dare to Care. I am blessed to call Denise a personal friend, with whom I’ve presented at NCTE Conventions, written with for years at ethicalela.com, and write with each month as part of a small group of writers as part of The Stafford Challenge. I’m happy to introduce you to Denise today.

Denise inspires us to write borrowed line poems in a new way. She shares her process: Choose a poem and write the first word of each line in a column down the side of your page. You can use the whole poem or just a stanza. You can use one of Jackson’s or choose another poem or stanza from someone else you are reading. Write a free verse poem letting the other poet’s words carry you. You might find that being held to one simple constraint, like having the first word in each line determined, can release more freedom in your poetry.

I’ve been dabbling in watercolor techniques lately, getting ready to step out into retirement and paint landscapes of the places I visit. I was inspired by Denise’s poem today when I thought of dust settling – – as if it ever really settles – – but my mind went to watercolor and stardust, and I used Lauren Camp’s poem Tonight the Sky Breathes from her collection In Old Sky as my borrowed first words. Lauren was the astronomer poet in residence at The Grand Canyon and is also a former poet laureate of New Mexico. I attended a session where she spoke last month, and I fell in love with her style and her themes of darkness and grief over the loss of her father.

White winged horse flying in a vibrant starry galaxy with moon and constellations

Pegasus Wins the Derby

wet on dry, vivid
Thunder cracks seep in
and settle in bold strokes
like horse hoof dust

Let wet on wet be
what carries racecloud churnings
night a stardust palette
washing teardrop stains into constellations

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VerseLove Day 17: The Queen of Our Kitchens

Our host today for the 17th day of VerseLove at http://www.ethicalela.com is Kratijah, who lives in Mauritius, where she teaches English Language Acquisition and Language & Literature at Le Bocage International School. She inspires us to write poems about our kitchens in free verse, and you can read her full prompt here.

Hidden Signals

on the wall by the French doors

in my kitchen hangs a

framed notebook paper drawing

of a rolling pin

its heavy wooden body

completely out of orientation

with the writing at one end

as if the artist got bored

or hungry

or murderous

in some seminar long ago

in some other language

but rolling pins and art

and French doors

speak in a

universal female tongue

so I have a hunch

why my mother

gave me this framed

picture in 1985

when I married my

first husband

she never liked him