Blame it on Allergies

On a scale of one to ten, with one being the lowest and ten being phenomenal, my productivity level today has hovered right at a negative eight—below slug level. As is my right as a citizen of the state of Florida on this pollen-dusted spring day, I’m blaming my lack of progress on seasonal allergies.

Actual photograph taken in my backyard.
The hills are alive with the sound of sneezing.
We all live in a pollen-covered state.

Okay, the antihistamine is kicking in, I’m not sneezing anymore, but now I can’t keep my eyes open.

Peace, and gesundheit, people!

Spring for Some

Spring for Some

By Leslie Noyes

Spring comes early in Florida.

Flowers blossom and the grass grows taller. Bees pollinate, birds court, squirrels scamper. It’s a time of life and renewal.

But as I walked around my yard today taking these photos I was overcome with grief. Surrounded by this display of life in bloom, I stopped to pray for those whose lives were cut short by a gunman last week in Parkland, Florida. Seventeen people who won’t experience spring’s beauty. Young people who will never get to hold their own babies or experience the joy of being a grandparent, growing old with their spouses. I prayed, too, for their families whose lives will never be the same.

One individual with a high-powered rifle ended the hopes and dreams of 17 people in less than five minutes. Was he mentally ill? Perhaps. Did society fail him? More than likely. Did numerous agencies fail to do their jobs? Perhaps, but until someone commits a crime these agencies often have their hands tied. If he hadn’t had easy access to guns would he have found another way to attack? It’s possible. BUT, he DID have easy access to guns, and this access allowed him to literally destroy 17 lives and figuratively destroy hundreds of others.

So stop with your second amendment talking points. Let’s do the right thing and begin looking at real solutions to gun violence in this country.

Peace, please, people.

Harva’s Place

Prairie sky resplendent in ozone scented spring

Promises made by rainbow’s arch spatter way out yonder

Concerned eyes watch storm’s progression stringing out hope for moisture

In a land that’s always thirsty, cumulonimbus delivers mixed blessings.

Distant rumbles echo over endless grassy acres, singing the clouds home.

My friend Ann (a.k.a. Harva) shot this picture on her land Monday afternoon. There is nothing like a prairie storm.

Waiting On Grandchildren

Grandchildren are
life changers,
deal sealers
harbingers of better
days to come,
like spring’s first
robin.
Waiting for their
promised arrival
with countless
pacings to the
windowpane
curtains pushed aside
every crunch
on the drive,
each distant 
chirping,
waxing then waning in
doppler-tuned ears.
And then a glimpse,
a hush
and a rush of
excitement.
Hold still
robins.
Stay awhile.