I am traveling the middle world from west to east.  I know that I am from earth but not of it.  Today though, I must join my human family as it is a time of celebration.

The eagles are crying out in distain.  Their shrill whistles permeate the air as I temporarily exit the higher realm.  Their piercing screams remind me that they will continue to support my efforts to rise above human drama and past mistakes.  I remember the lessons that I have progressed through then breath through self-doubt, illusions of fear and vanity.

My family is very unassuming.  They accept me for who I am.  I am the one who self judges.  I am very hard on myself so, I prefer not to take on someone else’s illusion of who I am.  Ego is hard to be rid of.  However, ego demolishing makes you wise.  It is very humbling.

It is hard to be a leader because people want to follow those who are wise or humble.  Sometimes, they put you up on a pedestal that is impossible to uphold or maintain.  I have no desire to be on that type of a pedestal.  I prefer to simply be myself.  Although, I have a strong desire to be the best that I can be, my preference is just to be happy doing whatever it is that I’m meant to be doing at the time.  Now, if that led to an invitation to stand behind a podium for a sharing of mutual empowerment, I would be very accepting and grateful for the opportunity.  This would allow all involved to achieve victory and freedom because we all chose to be present in order to experience the joy of shared wisdom.  I like to share. This is what I try to teach to others.  But they don’t understand.

I say to them, “I cannot be your leader.  I may be able to assist you during your journey but, you must follow your own lead.  Be an individual, revel in your differences.  Share as you are guided. This is what it means to lead by example.  This is what it is to be happy; joyful.  This is the true essence of love.  Love yourself.  Take the small steps.” Continue Reading »



Vultures – Chapter 2

Vultures – Chapter 3


Vesta wandered along the creek and wove amongst budding trees and bush in search of the red willow her ‘ami,’ had sent her for.

Once boiled with water and ingested, the red bark of willow became a remedy which would lower fever and reduce pain; a much needed medicine at this time of year when the weather was unpredictably hot or cold.

Vesta noticed the creek started to bend just farther east from where she stood. Beyond the bend, an alcove would shelter her from a cool spring breeze that blew through this shaded area of burly twisted tree trunks.  There a few feet beyond that bend lay a meadow surrounded by thick bush and willow tall enough to block any wayward wind.  Vesta stepped briskly toward the bend up ahead, eager to shake loose her brown woolen cape and carefully coiffed hair. How she looked forward to these rare moments of freedom away from the confines of the community where she felt like such a hostage.  Out of mortal fear, she’d been forced to camouflage herself amongst them – those she described as, ‘murderous vultures.’  She deliberately dressed in dowdy colors like they did; browns, grays and blacks were colors that more often than not kept one unnoticed among the colonies vultures.  Still, she liked ‘tiny pretty things’ and would don a small sparkly necklace or pin that could be easily covered if necessary when prying eyes cast their umbrous  glances in her direction. Continue Reading »

Literally Torn

This is an update on my last post regarding the progress of Bill C-10; an Act to Amend the Broadcasting Act here in Canada.

Let me start this article by sharing a quote from a fellow Canadian regarding the digital sphere:


“We need to pay attention to what is happening. 

The very character of our country is at stake,”

                                Justin Trudeau, Prime Minister of Canada, May 16, 2019


I agree; we most definitely do need to pay attention to what is happening! Our entire country is literally being torn apart by some of the very characters who lead it!  The digital sphere is only one area being abhorrently affected by these characters. Continue Reading »

Bill C-10

Normally, I stay out of the political arena however there are times when one needs to stand up and shout.

This bill will directly affect Canadian’s freedom of speech and since mainstream media has not been reporting on it as yet, I feel the need to share.

True, I do not have a great deal of followers but I might have enough to cause a ripple effect. For if my Canadian readers feel the same way I do about this bill and value their right to publish or even read the written word without fear of Government censureship. Then the attempt to pass this bill behind closed doors needs to stop.

If I tell two people then you tell two people, the ripple will become a tidal bore – perhaps even a tsunami. Let’s cause some awareness.

Stop Bill C-10!

Thank-you for reading, sharing and taking action!




Amarelle awoke screaming, the sound so high pitched and pitiful it cleared the very darkness from her unhinged mind.

Her mental clarity had partially returned thanks-be to a disturbing dream about clues for the future.   Her blue eyes darted around unfamiliar surroundings until she glimpsed a tattered dirty image of herself in the darkened window.  One hand was curled tightly into a fist.  She felt a stabbing, throbbing pain emanating from it.  She looked down at her left hand and slowly unfurled her fingers to reveal the contents which she gripped so tightly.

Inside the clenched fist of Amarelle’s left hand was a red thorny rose.  She had squeezed the flower so hard it had punctured her palm.  Blood droplets landed on her bare feet then trickled like tiny streams onto the floor boards.

Amarelle stared morosely at the rose’s squashed red petals and watched curiously as crimson droplets of blood trailed toward the floor. She was transfixed by the scarlet colors.

So entranced was Amarelle by the colors of red, that she had failed to noticed a large unwieldy figure who accompanied her in the room. Continue Reading »

Earth Day

Imagine the power it must take for a seed to burst from its shell.

All around us seedlings are growing from the warmth and strength provided by Mother Earth.

Imagine if you too had that type of power.  How would you use it?

Now, remember this; you do have that type of power – use it with gratitude and a loving heart.

The Earth sustains us all.

Happy Earth Day!

April 22, 2021



Yonder lays a crawling valley,

Where mustangs once did graze,

Amongst the sage and prairie grass,

But, that was in my younger days;

Now coyotes howl and eagles shrill,

At the setting sun on yonder hills,

We mourn the horses of crawling valley.

Coming Soon…

Coming soon,

April showers 


May flowers

“The Weaver”

“I am a weaver; a weaver of words.

Writers are weavers of words.

I am a writer. 

Oh, what tales we Weaver’s weave when our well scripted words are spun together into a magical yarn.

I am a writer; a weaver of magical yarns. 

I am a Weaver; a weaver of magical yarn.

I am a Weaver.”



I have always been a fan of folklore, myths and parables.  Recently, I came across the story of a Wise old Weaver woman hidden in a cave. Every culture has mystical tales that tell of Weaver’s hidden in places unknown or away from civilization.  Their only company a big black dog. They weave beautiful capes, robes or blankets with ethereal cords from the cosmos which are never completed because chaos (the dog) intervenes to unravel their work, at which point the Weaver’s begin again.  The myth is that if the Weaver ever completes their work, the world will end.  These Weaver’s have been creating this article of beauty since the beginning of time.

During the winter months, I began to weave.  It all started because of boredom.  I am an active person.  I don’t deal well with boredom.  Boredom led me toward the need to purge.  It’s astounding the amount of items that one accumulates and then holds on to for no real reason.  The time had come for me to remove needless items from my home – make more space – let’s say; in those dark, shadowy closeted spaces one like me hesitates to venture into.

I read a piece of prose by Andrew The Lonely Author at www.thelonelyauthorblog.com ; it started with, “love hung in her closet,” what an enchanting thought!

I am a little terrified of what might be hanging in my closets – cobwebs and skeletons.  But, there is proper timing for everything and the time for purging was now. Continue Reading »

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