Tag Archives: beautiful

So Very Close

Upi str Nrsiyogi;. epmfrtgi;, snf prtgrvy – rsvh in you t oen esy.

Isn’t that an interesting statement?  Often, when I get in a hurry to write, I set my fingers down on the typewriter and type a sentence or two without looking up.  When I do and see garbage, I have to reposition my fingers and start all over.

We are like that in life.  Sometimes, our thinking is just a little bit off – not much, just a little, and that makes all the difference.

“Two roads diverged in a wood and I, I took the one less traveled by” – Robert Frost

Our entire life can change by just a subtle movement.  I move my fingers less than an inch on the typewriter and get:

You are beautiful, wonderful, and perfect – each in your own way. 

See what a difference, just a little movement can make?

Namaste,

Scott

Spring? Spring?! Spring! – Well, not quite yet…

I was thinking today of how beautiful it is here and how winter is supposed to return in just a few hours and be with us for the rest of the week.  It was sweatshirt weather today and will, likely, be snowing by tomorrow night and rainy and nasty tonight and tomorrow.  So, I went to buy groceries today at good old Wal-Mart.  To and from, I had my trusty camera and photographed some of the scenery for you all.  Not beautiful, yet, but…it’s on its way!

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Here is our start, my house, from across the street.

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Look! The sun glinting off the windshields of cars not covered in ice and snow!

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Ah, but the vestiges of the mess are still apparent, even right across the parking lot.

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I wanted you to see the fine county roads we have to travel on. I took this right before I was bounced three times in a row!

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I think that I shall never see…

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This is gorgeous in the late fall and in the winter deep snow.

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If I remember Miss Hopeful Hugger, you love horses, yes?!

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There are a myriad of houses on route. This one is new? and I have never seen it before. Does look like a modular, doesn’t it?

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This is the bigger grandiose style of home.

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This is a church that was sold and bought and transformed into a home.

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For those who follow, this is the library I am always talking about. I help support the purchase of new books through my Amazon Sales. Over 1,000 books, most of which will benefit the library greatly, even if you buy them from far away!
http://www.amazon.com/shops/bookman236.

Enjoy!  Namaste,

Scott

Murmuration – Now, there’s a word!

I am not even going to tell you what it is.  I will let the video do that.  I was going to do something very spiritual and insightful and wonderful for my post tonight.  Nature took care of that.

Just watch.  It’s short and amazing.  It takes my breath away.  Starlings!  Who’d a thought?

Namaste,

Scott

Friday Fictioneers – 09/28/2012 – Regret

Friday Fictioneers – September 28, 2012

Johnathon walked into the living room and sat by the fireplace.  He glanced at Sarah, his wife and most beautiful woman he had ever known.  She turned her head, smiling back.

“Dinner’s ready soon, Sweetheart,” her voice cooed.

“Thanks.  I don’t think I’ll make it tonight, Love,” he spoke back, just as softly, but with tearful sadness.

He got up and stepped, unsteadily, to the doorway.  He turned, looking once more at her.  Her loveliness followed him out into the afternoon sun.

He glanced back at the ruins of the house.

“Wish I had made it after all,” he whispered.

Namaste,

Scott

Friday Fictioneers – 09/22/2012 – Memorial

*Note- since I put another post up today until 10am, I will not change this one until Sunday morning.

Friday Fictioneers – September 21, 2012

“I don’t understand, Dad.” They stared at the three-winged statue on the dock.

“Jimmy, I simply want you to try.”

“Okay, Listening.”

“There was a story of maidens who flew here from stars to have children.  They stayed until birth.  They would take girls back. Boys were forbidden on their planet.  Some killed the child; others flew angrily away.  They were fierce, and beautiful.  Their weakness was sunlight.”  He looked at his son.  The little boy shuffled, then brightened.

“I see!  This statue is to remember them.”

“No,” said George sadly.  “This statue is your mother.  She wouldn’t leave you.”

Namaste,

Scott

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