While Waiting For The Atmospheric River

Santa Clara County, CA – Shelter-in-Place Week9

Weather forecast calls for an Atmospheric River for our general area between yesterday and Tuesday. We’re due a total of 0.03 inches of rain.ūüėā¬† I can’t help it…coming from New Orleans,¬† I would expect more rainfall during something called an Atmospheric River.¬† But, we’ll take all the rain we can get and it gives us something to think about besides the pandemic.

Partly over the weather forecast and partly because I wanted to smile today¬† ( while waiting for this weather forecast to materialize)¬† we’re watching ‘Singin’ In The Rain’…¬† take a few minutes to watch pure bliss unfold.¬† I mean, what else do you have to do? And who else remembers tap dance lessons?

Ellespeth  ♥


Sometimes I like something spontaneous.¬† If you knew me, you’d know how unusual those sometimes are.¬† Spontaneous is joy to me and this flash mob video expresses such joy to me.¬† I’ve posted this before but I wanted to watch again today and share it again.¬† I think this is a beautiful moment in time.¬† Seemingly spontaneous to the casual observer.¬† Just turn up the speakers and dance and sing like crazy.

Ellespeth   ♥


Love At The Concert – Prose & A Poem

Here’s some free flow writing.¬† It’s about all I can do right now…

I think I should certainly, by now, be feeling something. But I’m not. I’m reading a novel about innocence being stolen and projecting my feelings onto the story. That’s easier for me right now. Now and then I play the French National Anthem on the stereo and open the condo door into the hallway and march around the living room. I’m unable to touch upon my own reality. That seems so inconsequential to losing my own reality. My life. And I don’t always have to make sense of my sorrow.

Love At The Concert
I’ll always remember his body moving to the music
against mine
his arm draped
playfully over my shoulder
and that sudden
unknown look upon his face.


Pine and Chinkapin – Fiction

Time for this week’s Flash Fiction For Aspiring Writers.¬†¬† It begins anew each Wednesday. ¬† 100-150 words more or less to do with ¬† the photo below¬† (photo changes each week).¬† I’ll put the link to this week’s stories at the end of this piece.¬† Blogs, like this, are such a great gift for writers – and I believe readers,¬† too.¬† Pass on by – click on the froggy at the end of this story.

Huge thanks to PJ for hosting this for us.¬† It’s so much appreciated.

Pine and Chinkapin

Just beyond the grounds of St. Mary of the Pines,  bordering right on the graveyard,  is Cypress Knees Swamp.  Snowy egrets circle round and,  in spring,  the scent of wild wisteria and blooming magnolia can almost overwhelm a person. The steadfast pines stay prickly and green. The chinkapin drops crimson leaves each fall and blooms anew each spring.

St. Mary of the Pines used to be a boarding school and a convent.¬† These days, it’s a retreat center.¬† I was there to lead a Marriage Retreat.¬† I hadn’t decided if I’d have the group dance and journal or create some sort of artwork.

“What do you mean you’re going away for the weekend to lead a Marriage Retreat?”¬† Owen,¬† my husband,¬† had asked as I was leaving .¬† “How can you possibly be of any help right now?”

Our open marriage experiment was failing.  One of us had fallen in love again.  We hugged.  We cried.  I drove away.

In the end,  there was dancing that weekend.  So much had changed.


photo prompt thanks to © Dawn M. Miller

When The Moment Was Lost – Fiction

Another installment of   Friday Fictioneers  hosted by Rochelle.  100 words or so based on the image below. Click on the link (after this piece) and come join us!

garden-mazeWhen The Moment Was Lost

Beyond the garden maze, Sonya could see the gazebo;  beyond the gazebo,  Weeping Willow Swamp.  It was spring.  The scent of wild magnolia and wisteria wafted in the air.   Spanish Moss swayed gently in the breeze.

Sonya joined the other women for a quiet meditation.  They walked within the maze.  Later, they made their way, single file, to the gazebo.  There were seven of them.  Inside the gazebo,  the women formed a circle and held hands.

One of them sneezed.  Sonya giggled.  The spell had been broken.  In the end,  they decided just to drink some wine and trance dance.



photo prompt © Melanie Greenwood

That Crazy Sometime (A Poem)


Mountain Moonset

That Crazy Sometime
Sometimes look back.
Life becomes a series of glossy
books flapping.
And that’ll do. Sometimes
be silent.
Listen to the stars.
Paint the sky purple.
Dance with me
on the crazy side of the moon.


This was submitted to (and accepted by)That Crazy Sometime | The Community Storyboard  in response to a writing prompt re purple .  Be sure to visit The Community Storyboard to enjoy and support a great writing site.