The sky today is filled with clouds. They vary from fluffy, cotton ball white to deepening shades of grey. A few blue patches are also visible but they are outnumbered by the clouds.
The wind is gusting from the south. This is unusual. Normally the wind comes from the north, over the water, which lowers the temperature.
I am sitting on a covered deck, enjoying the sensation of hot wind buffeting my skin. From where I sit in my third floor hideaway, I watch palm fronts bending to and fro and clouds skittering overhead.
The forecast is for a thunder storm later in the day. When that comes I will be forced inside. The other side of the condo faces the sea where I will have a sheltered view of the storm. I wonder what it will bring.
Perhaps there will be flashes of lightening cracking open the fury of a dark sky. Maybe the wind will whip the waves into giant froths before they crash to the shore.
I am powerless to stop whatever it may bring. There is no point in me focusing on a storm that is not even here yet. For all I know, it may be diverted and not arrive here.
At the moment I relish the feeling of the warm wind billowing through my clothing. I am content in the here and now. Gratitude floods over me as I enjoy the solitude and diversity of my surroundings. Right now is all I am guaranteed of and I don’t want to waste one precious moment.











Too many opportunities have slipped through my fingers due to my maybe later thinking. I still fight this but am learning to tell myself, if not now, then when? Why is another time better than now?
We first saw the wall about ten years ago. It stood strong and tall, protecting the property behind it from the ravages of wind and sea.
Less than a week ago, countless tributes were made to a much-loved man as he was laid to rest. He left this earth suddenly and far too early. Those who cared about him didn’t have the chance to express what he meant to them.
I knew we were in for a tough workout when the instructor said, “Don’t listen to your brain. It will tell you to stop when you feel tired. Listen o your body and don’t stop until it can’t do any more.”
The pastor started his sermon by telling us the choices we make shape our future and determine our destiny. This was something I already knew. The question remained; how often do I think about it when making my choices?
The old coffee can received a new life in a kindergarten class back in 2005. First, it was painted white. Then a snowman face was painted on and a red felt cap added.
It has become my tradition to share this poem with you as one year and we embark upon another. Every year I read it and appreciate what it has to say. My mother gave it to me many years ago and unfortunately, I don’t know who the author is.
Words of encouragement have great power. Recently I learned something that helps me understand this more fully.