Tuesday, January 12, 2016


I was in my homeland of New Hampshire over New Year's and for whatever reason, "transitioning" back has been difficult!

I hadn't been home in a year and half so maybe that made everything and everybody seem extra precious: the ocean, the Christmas lights, the snow.

Sunday afternoon, January 3, I walked around Strawbery Banke in Portsmouth. I always seem to find myself at least once when I'm home creeping past the old Portsmouth Hospital (now I think police HQ) where I was born. The wreaths and garlands and lights on the graceful old Colonial homes, and the bay as a backdrop, were lovely.

On a quiet side road, I became entranced with the way the afternoon light showcased the above branch of dried flowers (or maybe it was "just" a weed).

Then there were these dear animal prints and stray solitary grasses erupting through the ice-glossed snow.

A hush fell--and then a Squirrel came through.


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