Soul Carving

     We'd had a rough morning. I was regretting our decision of the previous evening to allow the two oldest children to stay up late watching a holiday movie. Our hopes of getting to church on time were deteriorating fast in the face of mounting hysteria. Welcome, welcome, Sabbath morning.      Miraculously, my patience remained intact. Everyone else went ahead while I stayed with the straggler. But even though we were running late, I had to dodge back inside for the camera when I saw what the Winter Fairies had been up to during the night. A wonderland of breathtakingly intricate beauty lay spread out before us.  Remember the heavenly love-note I found at the park? Here's another one! Amazing how something so icy cold can warm your heart.           Whether it's the uncommonly cold winter temperatures that are sweeping the nation, or a personal gloomy chill that's se...

WHITE by Bethany Campbell White is new and clean.  A fresh canvas,  still and hopeful,  awaiting the brushstrokes  of memory and inspiration  to provide color and meaning. White is the color of anticipation,  of whispered plans and secret surprises. Imagination suspended in time; gradually shifting, taking shape  beneath a shimmering blanket of dreams.  White is empty, motionless, quiet. The culmination of preparation and labor not completed yet,  but forming steadily, silently, diligently. White is open, boundless,  eternal. Brimming with possibilities, with endless potential. White is calm.  White is content. White is a promise, awaiting fulfillment. But white is fleeting, enveloping the world for only a brief moment.  White is a sign, a flag, Not of surrender, but of peace.  The herald of new life,...

     My earliest Christmas memories growing up involved a squat artificial tree, decked with handmade hearts and reindeer. But as I grew, so did the tree. Eventually, it morphed into 2 stunning trees, draped with ribbon garlands and vintage ornaments, glowing with soft white lights. One with dusty, mauve tones and golden trimmings, stood beside the piano in the living room. Another, still gold but with deep burgundy and forest green hues graced the family room. My mother never cared for silver. "It's too cold," she'd shiver. Basking in the warm radiance of the Christmas tree was my favorite way to spend wintry December evenings. Some guests thought it strange to visit for Thanksgiving and see our tree in all its splendor already sprouted from the living room floor. They'd have been more surprised several years later if they'd seen the family room of the new house we moved into. By that time we'd purchased the seco...

. . . here it comes!           First snowfall of the season.      Chilly days make for warm memories. 

Rosemary. Sage. Thyme. An embroidered cloth which belonged to Richard's grandmother. Collection of second-hand dishes which have become  our seasonal treasures. Cranberry Salad Preparing  Thanksgiving Punch Working on our "Thankful Tree" Crayon "bark" gets caught under our fingernails. The finished product. Complete with resident cardinal. (Painted by 9 year old artist) Awaiting the feast. (Indian corn napkin holders are also the work of young artist) Turkey Rolls Ready to "gobble" it up! Sweet feet. Happy, even though he's too young for solids. Sisters More sweet feet. Love.      Many, many years ago, they left everything they'd ever known for the hope of creati...