Shooting Stars… Each Radiant stream Ebbs Disintegrating Into stardust, beautiful in death Passing Into oblivion Temporarily Dazzling Yielding
~kat
You need to be in the right place at the precise right time to catch a glimpse of the final moments of distant ancient stars. Seeing a shooting star is serendipitous…my favorite word in response to this WordPress prompt. I love the sound of the word almost as much as I love its meaning.
Serendipity is the phenomenon of making fortunate and unexpected discoveries by chance, rather than by planning or searching for them.It’s the experience of finding something pleasant or valuable when you weren’t even looking for it, like a happy accident or a lucky coincidence. (AI definition)
Much love, peace, and serendipitous glimmers to you…
~kat ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
Here are a few of those serendipitous moments from today…
It’s been busy…and so much has transpired in the world these days. To my friends in the UK…thank you for saying out loud and proudly what we in the US are finding it increasingly dangerous to say during the recent visit by our president. So sorry you had to endure his ill-mannered behavior. But seeing the protests from across the pond did my heart good.
I have some lovely glimmers to share with you…and then a few poems to wrap things up as I catch up for yesterday and today.
Much love, peace, and glimmers to you!
~kat
Fog on Bramlett Mountain
day 259
silencing
watch the words you say they are listening from the shadows for whispers of protest free speech sacrificed to appease a thin-skinned bully a liar bent on destruction…
day 260
speaking up
say words that need said don’t let lying lies lie only truth will save us from this vile nightmare your silence is golden honesty is not policy to the powerful
no crickets at dusk just a rattling dirge generators, consuming silence the sky gray, clouds heavy with rain would I, could I live so simply if the lights stayed out
~kat
We keep telling ourselves that we need to get a full house generator. Our neighbors all have them. It makes sense. The aging trees where we live are lovely and tall, but they do what they were created to do…bend with the wind. Unfortunately, sometimes the tree branches collide with the power lines. It happens several times a season, in fact. We have a few small generators that we keep charged up for essential things. But it’s not enough we have found, especially when the outage lasts for days.
Today was another one of those days. Rainy, and not too windy, but enough to disrupt my work day. Suddenly the power died. I was able to carry on with business using the battery on my laptop and my phone as a hot spot. But I didn’t quite have the bandwidth to finish the tasks on my list of to-dos for the day. As the sky darkened I found myself drifting toward sleep. Every time we have an outage I wonder, what would life be like if things were simpler?
I’m old enough to remember when. And I do miss it sometimes as much as I love being able to connect with distant relatives and old and new friends thanks to technology.
Just as I was settling into the slower pace creeping in as dusk slipped into night, the lights, and my house full of appliances and electronics buzzed back to life. I was almost disappointed. I rarely get to sleep in silence. As I type the heat pump is pushing cool air through the ceiling vents. It’s a noise I’ve gotten used to, but it is so rare…true silence…and my question to myself? Would I? Could I? I believe definitely I could and most certainly would thrive in a simpler setting. How nice it was for a few hours’ taste to imagine it!
Much Love, Peace, and Glimmers to you!
~kat ✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
✨✨Some visitors stopped by. They show me every day how simple is done!✨✨
past grievances haunt me like unwelcome guests that I thought I’d buried long ago stirring raw emotions and words left unsaid it was time… finally time to heal
~kat
Spend time reminiscing with family and it’s bound to stir up all manner of ghosts from the past. Some memories are wonderful, and some not so. Our heart and mind decides when it’s time to dig up long-buried grievances, and then we have a choice. Shove it back into the grave we sealed it in decades ago, or give it voice, let it air, once and for all address the thing that has been gnawing away pieces of your heart even if, especially if you didn’t remember or realize it was there.
Well that happened. And it was okay. No longer buried to fester in my subconscious, the healing can begin. This is the beauty and fierce connection of family, of shared blood and DNA. When I say it has been a good visit with my sister it has been all this and more.
Much love, peace, and glimmers of healing to you.
~kat✨✨✨💚💚💚✨✨✨
As for glimmers, I’ll leave you with this little guy…
Mr. Toad of the Bramlett Mountain Foothills, Messenger of Coming Rain and Emotional and Spiritual Communication…and Healing…fancy that!✨💚✨
Loading up the hummingbird feeders one last time in 2025.
red-throated hummingbird migration
one last sweet nectar feast before fledglings and seasoned fluttering flyers take to the wind led by stars and ancient instinct due south to winter in the Panamanian tropics along the Gulf of Mexico until the spring when they return to nest
~kat
The long hot days of summer seemed endless when we were in the thick of it, wilting in the heat and humidity day after sweltering day. And then, just like clockwork, the days grew shorter, the air snapped crisp and cool, and the trees turned from green to shades of gold, red, and amber. Just like that the hummingbirds drained my nectar feeders in a feeding frenzy to fatten themselves up before heading south.
I will miss them. They’re happy chirping outside the window while I work. But winter is coming. And winter is no place for a delicate hummingbird to be. As sure as their radar directs them to the tropics, I rest in the assurance that they will return come spring, like they do every year…like clockwork.
I wonder what it is like to trust one’s instinct so doggedly that taking a thousand mile trip into the unknown known is just the annual thing one does when the temperature drops. I wonder if I have instinctual, intuitive capacity hidden somewhere inside me. I wonder if I surrendered to it, trusted and had faith enough that I would at long last find my way to nirvana or utopia, or whatever destination it is that we all seem to be driving toward. Somewhere along the way from birth to these many decades later, I’ve forgotten how to fly. The truth is, I have forgotten I have wings. How grateful I am for the lessons of my little friends. In fact I feel a little flutter in my heart just thinking of it!
So it is easier for you to find all the parts/chapters of my ongoing fiction series, I created a new page that lists all the links. You can check it out HERE!
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