20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers


Depth of Nature

The sea like silken water with its triangular-peaked hills rising in front of me, neither relaxed or in a hurry, flows at a speed I wanted to experience.  I paddled frantically, and suddenly, in a breath, the sensation changed from a pulling through the water to a force pushing onto the azul cliff crest. Then there was the perfect rush down, the fall, a thunder of water behind, a liquid slicing turn along  green-blue scenery, a coal-less steam-powered train ride, the only energy nature’s.

In that breath, that ride, I remember that I too am part of this flowing life, and I shout out, thankful, singing, a prayer from within.  Air rushes past, nothing else can matter, my body and mind are consumed by a few seconds.  A delicious sensation, even the salty taste and scent as I inhale, smiling.

Seaside, I walk up the beach in adoration of nature.  My soul feels like my body felt, like a rock being momentarily launched, skimmed over something deep and alive.  And at the end of the ride, at the end of the moment, I sink into that which I love so much.

By Jonathan McCallum


A Stormy Night With You

DSCN2133
As I listen to the rain spattering against my cabin’s window,
I think of that night when we were stranded here.
The roads were washed out and the creek overflowing,
but I was in your arms , safe, warm, a long-awaited dream.

I saw the lights blink on the alarm clock, the bang on the transmitter.
I smiled, we were alone, you and I , no one would check on us.
I tugged on grandma’s quilt and you tugged back-asleep.
I listened to the sweet sound of your breath, soft, even.

When I awoke, stars glimmered in the window, the clock was flashing.
Darkness still surrounded me, along with your strong, hard arms.
I wanted this night to last forever, the moon seemed satisfied with just a peek at us.
You and I, finally in a place where life brought a freshness-alone, together.


1 Comment

A Stormy Night With You

Image
As I listen to the rain spattering against my cabin’s window,
I think of that night when we were stranded here.
The roads were washed out and the creek overflowing,
but I was in your arms , safe, warm, a long-awaited dream.

I saw the lights blink on the alarm clock, the bang on the transmitter.
I smiled, we were alone, you and I , no one would check on us.
I tugged on grandma’s quilt and you tugged back-asleep.
I listened to the sweet sound of your breath, soft, even.

When I awoke, stars glimmered in the window, the clock was flashing.
Darkness still surrounded me, along with your strong, hard arms.
I wanted this night to last forever, the moon seemed satisfied with just a peek at us.
You and I, finally in a place where life brought a freshness-alone, together.


1 Comment

The Feeling of Home

DSCN1685

Home is the place where I walk in the door, recognize the fragrances, smiles at the messes, savor the peace and feeling of security. When my family is with me, What I miss most about home, is simply home, itself.

Of course, coming home alone is a different story. The joy of beloved faces, sloppy kisses from kids and pets, and the “ahh” of taking off the uncomfortable shoes or clothes you’ve endured while you were away, all of these give home that all important feeling of belonging.

What strikes me most about my feelings for ‘home’ is thinking of the homeless. Thinking of not having that place to rest, not being able to go to the kitchen, open the curtains and fix some chai tea. Not flopping down in your favorite recliner, or taking a hot bath. I honestly believe that the best thing about home is simply HAVING ONE.


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The Telephone Rings

Her little voice across the phone last night:
“I saw your picture in the paper. Nice!”
(My writers’ group, one afternoon of white
snow, candy canes, hot chocolate, gave a slice

of literature with readings, workshops, sales
of our own books before the Christmas rush.)
And then my granddaughter asked, voice in trails
of hope, “Can I come over?” In a hush

of happiness how I agreed. “I’ll bring
my books and I could have my lesson.” Yes!
She plays piano. I, the richest king,
anticipated her arrival, press

of long brown hair against my chest. And soon
I saw her lime-green coat. She ran to me,
“Hi, Memah.” O, that sweetened perk. The moon
last night shone brighter than the stars. To be

with her is treasure. How this charmer brings
me joy with laughs and smiles tucked in so tight
that every polished moment like this clings
with stubborn happiness and makes dark light.

English: Siemens Gigaset 4010 Classic, cordles...

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)


3 Comments

SPRAY

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Spray

 

Not all days have waves such as this

Some days the are just sweet and lazy

It is days such as this though that bring me such bliss

The sky was such a beautiful Blue without a sign of being hazy.

 

I love the spray as it dances above the waves as if to hold still till I capture it

It seems to add to the beauty of this photo with all the froth of this crashing wave

It is here upon the hill I sit and wait till just the perfect moment click

Though I now know  it is really the peace I find at this special place full of powerful waves I simply crave.

 

 

 

 

 


TRUCKING the last years

Originally posted on Living and Lovin:

Trucking

My Last Rig

It has been a very long time since I looked at this photo.  I used to miss this truck so much, then it was the girl  I was, who had gone missing.

Let me tell you some background since a few have asked about the days I spent behind the wheel of an 18 Wheeler(this one has 22 ) .

So much happened before I became a trucker, guess you would surmise that,  as young girls really did not drive tractor-trailer trucks  in the mid to late 70’s,  well not in New England especially.

So do I begin here with this time period in the photo or go from the start?

I think I will do this blog from just before  the time I bought her till I said goodbye,  as there really is an awful lot for this  story.

I was divorced in 1995  and as part of the…

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