The Sights, Sounds, and Smells of the Morning….

As I walk the paved path at a nearby park with my blue-eyed girl and cinammon-colored boy fur babies, I am reminded of the familiarity of my surroundings.

Hens and drakes skim across the lake, a killdeer sings her song of distress least anyone disturb her nest, and the cicadas low hum remind me of a small fan motor.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAI bump into Jan and Ralph, a cute couple, out for their morning stroll. They always surprise my curious canines with crunchy Milkbone treats. Today is no different.

Nearing the end of our walk, the dogs hop in the car. I quench their thirst by pouring water from an empty milk carton into their pink soft-sided bowl. Girl dog sloppily sips water from the mouth of the jug before it trickles into the bowl.

We make our usual morning coffee run to Starbucks, where I know the all the barristas names.

Lincoln greets me at the counter, and says, “The usual?”

“Tall cap, non-fat, ristretto, extra hot, with one pump of mocha, light whip and salt.”


“Yes please.”

“Haven’t seen you here in awhile,” Sarah says with her cheery smile, who is busy making my beverage.

“Yeah, I know.”

I love hearing the sound of the espresso machine as it screeches, before the dark caramel-hued liquid drops into the shiny shotglasses.

I head back to the car to find Boy dog sitting in the driver’s seat, or Girl dog posed in the passenger seat.

As I drive away, I roll the windows all the way down, so my animal children can feel the cool air caress their soft fur like an ocean breeze hugs warm naked skin.

As I turn down the gravel road to my home, cardinals chirp, squirrels carrying nuts scurry, and bunnies scamper. The oak, walnut, and maple trees are dressed in celery greens and corn-maize yellows ready for their fall fashion show.

Opening the door from the garage to the kitchen, I tell Boy dog to “push it,” and he gently nudges it open with his nose.

Girl kitty is waiting for our arrival home, talking in her best ‘quack’ voice that we’ve been gone way too long!

As I pen this note on the deck, the dog children rest nearby – one sleeping, the other pensive and curious about the sounds and sights on our property.

The Cleomes, bathed in shades of lavender, are favorites of the hummingbirds. I study their lacy blooms that fan out in a helicopter-like pattern.

All is right with the world.



There is No Such Thing as a Little Moment….

DSC_0114Walking through the house this week, I was reminded of a saying on a picture frame, “There is no such thing as a little moment.”

The moment in time, protected by pewter and glass, was captured at the St. Joseph, Michigan lighthouse jetty, early on in my marriage. It was a windy day, the sun was shining, and hubby and I were smiling ear to ear.

Each day, I am reminded that there are no such things as ‘little moments’.

When the dog does something silly like get wrapped up under the blankets, rendering it impossible to make the bed…20150325_094841 Sabrina copyr

When you walk among 4,000 Blue Morpho butterflies in flight at the Sophie Sachs Butterfly House, in Chesterfield, Missouri…

DSC_0095 blue morpho on bench copyr DSC_0100 butterfly  nancy crop

When you witness the sky change colors from orange, to blood red, to blue-gray while strolling the shoreline in Sunset Beach, North Carolina…

DSC_1492 sunset muted sky copyr

They’re really big moments, aren’t they?

So here’s to those moments, those fleeting bits of time, that lift us up wherever we are.

Those moments…knowing God is in our presence.

Happy Thursday and God Bless!


Publications in two anthologies dear to my heart

Just wanted to take a moment to tell you of two new anthologies I’ve been published in.

The Animal Anthologies Project has published my essay entitled “Purrs, Paws, and Cat Scratch Kisses” formerly in Whispering Angel Books Nurturing Paws Anthology.  The fourth essay in the book, it’s about overcoming handicaps and the positive energy my three-legged cat Tripoli supplies me with daily.  You can read more about The Animal Anthologies Project by clicking here on the Psychology Today link.

The other publication is Proud to Be: Writing by American Warriors published by the Missouri Humanites Council and Southeast Missouri Press.  The stories and photos are from veterans or families of veterans.  My photograph “Army Mom” can be found in the book.   Click on Warrior Arts Allliance website for more information on how to purchase the book.

Do Bugs Trust?

I posed a question to my facebook friends the other day.

Do bugs trust?

One friend stated that they didn’t believe insects had feelings or emotions.

Another friend said that any living thing can sense an energy – good or bad.  She went on to say that living with three dogs she adores (and finds amazing), she feels a greater awareness and a connectedness to, and interest in ‘life’.  She even removes crickets from her teaching room at school.

Yet another friend commented “I feel that insects, like animals, can’t think like humans do, but do feel as though they sense things better than humans.  Geese mate for life.”  Her brother’s dog knows exactly when they return or when a storm is brewing.  Insects can sense food is nearby.

My husband mentioned that elephants must trust their trainers. Dame Daphne Sheldrick knows this first-hand.  Head of Wildlife Trust, she saves Africa’s orphaned elephant babies.   Baby elephants need their mother’s milk for normally the first three years of their life.  Workers at her organization, take over this role – feeding the babies.

Ms. Sheldrick says, “The elephants must love their keepers.  The keepers must love the elephants because an elephant can read your heart.  They know.”

Which brings me back to the question, “Do bugs (and animals) trust?”

I feel that bugs and animals, can sense positive and negative energy and get a reading or a vibe from humans. A sort of universality beauty, as Ralph Waldo Emerson once said in his ninth essay “The Oversoul.”  A oneness.  Every living thing is somehow connected to every other living thing.

A proclaimed treehugger –

I’ve rescued a butterfly stranded on a gas station pump. At first glance, it seemed as if the butterfly was in the last stages of life.  At closer inspection, its wing was inverted (out of place).  I helped the little guy out, moved the wing back to its proper position and watched it flutter off.

Found in the tall grass at my previous home, I’ve taken newborn bunnies to the vet in hopes of finding them homes.  This seemed more important than getting to work on time.

When our dog Mitch ripped three layers of skin open on a rusty horseshoe spike and within ½ inch of severing a major artery, I applied pressure on the wound while my ex drove recklessly to an animal emergency clinic to save his life.

As a child, I’ve nursed baby birds back to health when they’d fallen out of their nests.

Over the last few years, my husband and I have offered up our land as a wild animal release site for baby animals such as squirrels, opossums and rabbits.

While scubadiving, we’ve cut fish lines saving rope corals and sea fans from suffocation.

On countless roads and thoroughfares, we’ve stopped our car to move turtles (of all sizes) out of harm’s way.

We’ve provided safe, secure homes to many animal children over the years – cats and dogs that might otherwise have been neglected, put to sleep, or abandoned.  I suppose you could say they’ve trusted us.


Recent brushes with nature in the last few weeks include: a dragonfly perching on my husband’s fingertip while on a canal tour in Sturgeon Bay; a damselfly lighting on my forearm while floating down the Lazy River at Raging Rivers Water Park; and a butterfly landing on my big toe while relaxing on our deck chairs.

Let me be completely honest.  The chalky ice-blue Spreadwing damselfly with wings so transparent and eyes deep blue and large, was enough to mesmerize while observing its raw beauty.

To others around me (except hubby, of course), I must have looked funny (strange) as I asked the question “How are you doing little one?” of the damselfly, while floating around in a big fat innertube.  I chuckled with delight and thanked God the damselfly chose an appreciative human with which to interact.

So for me, I suppose bugs (and animals) do trust, in some weird cosmic way.

Whether my sweet damselfly realized it or not, she put her precious (and short) life in my hands.  I reciprocated, if just for a minute, by pouring out positive energy – a goofy smiling face and some good old-fashioned universal love.

A creature so little trusting a creature sooooo big (me) in the basic scheme of things…