Pansies in the Pines

Imagine these lovely posies blooming in the mountains at the base of a hundred year old pine tree. Obviously not planted by a gardener's loving fingers, but rather a random seed blown as the leaves of autumn have died.  The trip that this little seed had to take is unfathomable.  Surviving a blustery fall and a blizzardy winter, it came to rest at the base of the pine tree.  It's tiny stems sprouted with the melting of the first snow as first blossoms faced the sun as if in worship. Hikers passed the small green survivors in wonder.  There is a sweet smell in the air....like the onset of spring...with a sprinkling of sweet.  The colorful flowers survive the changes in temperature under the warmth of their mother pine. The hot summers could destroy their blooms, but don't.  Onlookers admire them and comment on their resiliency...believing that they serve as a testiment to the strength of the human spirit.

Memories of Mom

The colors of spring 1

I am writing on my deck today remembering a very sweet spring day from the past.  My mother and I sat in the exact same place sharing coffee and memories. She was happy, reasonably healthy and in the moment. My mother was legally blind and could not do the one thing she loved most.....read a book.  It was a source of frustration for her but she coped by using audio books. Ultimately, listening to books would make her tired....and sometimes fall asleep!  Not so with my writing, thank God.

She was such a blessing to me.  For hours on end, she listened to my manuscripts as I read them aloud to her. Often, she would stop me, conveying a thought about my work.  Losing one sense made her keenly feel with the other senses, and she gave me such good advice.  As I sit here today, I feel her next to me smiling. She loved spring, as I do and I can almost hear her thoughts on how happy spring made her feel.  My memories of spring will always be tied to my mother.  Happy spring Mom...you are missed.  I love you.

Thanks for the Memories

Please check out my website......lindsayalexandradawson.com to read my true story about a lovely visit to Morocco.

It was surreal to be in that exotic land with the delicious scents and heady aromas following you wherever you walked...the sound of a very foreign tongue with it's gutteral enunciations confusing you with wonder! It was hynotizing and exciting.  Add the food that feeds your soul...and it was a perfect "stimulate the senses" vacation.

Jordanian Memories

My time in Jordan is helping me with the character development of my male protagonist who is 1/2 Jordanian.  I have so many fond memories of my time there.  The Bay of Aqaba is exquisitely beautiful...the water so warm and blue.  And the food....still tempts me today....many years later. Isn't it funny how food unites people....families and cultures? Especially when you leave your home and travel to another country, sharing the knowledge of common foods, which really means a common culture....is like sharing the most intimate secret.

A Glimpse of Her World

She belongs to a tribe....but not in the sense of what you are thinking.   It is a group that is tightly knit and exclusive in that you must be born into it.  If you leave, it is almost impossible to be invited back.  If you stay, you  agree to a constricting life.  Life is predictable.  Everyday you wake up and know what is expected of you.  Your behavior must mirror those of your family ahead of you.  Conform is the word of the day...in fact the word of your life....and therein lies the problem. Rules suffocate her.