The multitude we’re given

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BC Canada snowing on a frozen lake — author’s pic

Loving the ground I step on,
the pebbles by the lakes,
in the forests or on trails,
the rocks on the sides of houses,
strong and unmoving,
the sky so blue, so white or so bright,
full of rainbows after rains,
the snowflakes falling gently
in their dance
or furiously as if wanting to stay.
I’d stare at the sky for hours,
at the birds diving through snowflakes
like miniature airplanes
trying to avoid impact.

Loving all forests with their animals and trees life as given by mother earth, all plentiful, gifts we disregard, ignore every day in our chase…

Fiction Friday

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Photo by Elijah Hiett on Unsplash

Angela had just made it home when Lucy called her.

Lucy took a deep breath before speaking, and Angela knew something bad had happened.

“It’s Gabriel,” Lucy said, “you have to come back, he’s been clinically dead for two minutes. They brought him in.”

Angela was just in the midst of cursing him for his idiotic pasta fetish, because this time he hadn’t bothered hide the pasta, or throw it in the outside bin. Gabriel had left it there, in the middle of the room with his business all over it.

As soon as she got the call she rushed…

Truth likes the open air

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British Columbia, Canada — author’s pic

I used to think that trees must be lonely, even when together, for they don’t usually touch, embrace, kiss or caress.

I believed sensuality a must for survival.

I’ve learned that space is so important. Giving each other space to breathe, to think, to feel. Respect is part of allowing the other to have their freedom.

Trees are all connected through their roots, they communicate with each other, isn’t that amazing? And they enjoy their breathing auras, letting one another shine and be unique.

How much I grew: from the scared girl beaten into a fearful pebble, into the fearless…

I wake up shortly before 4 am and am at my desk with my tea around 4 and a bit. It's the only time I have without interruptions, the very early morning until 6 ish when my son is awake and greedy for attention. :) Of course at about 8 pm, after a whole day of non stop work I fall dead.

I sometimes steal Medium time when I wait for something or someone somewhere. Of course many times I discover with horror that pieces I clapped on and read look un-clapped, because of the mobile function that is so finicky. Weekends I linger more and steal more in-between time as I get some help from the spouse and older son... 🎈

Fiction Friday

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Image by marcisim from Pixabay

“How did I meet Daddy? What a wise question, my love, because it was indeed a matter of how. Mommy finally made it to the tram station where she was supposed to meet her boyfriend at the time.”

“Was Daddy your boyfriend?”

“No, no. Just wait and listen. I was an hour late. The streetcar station — you know, we say streetcar in Canada — didn’t have a shelter and it was raining cats and dogs — ”

“I learned about cats and dogs, it means a lot, like a lot!”

“Yes my love. It was raining so hard, that…

I lied aloud wishing you a nice life

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Photo by Xavier Mouton Photographie on Unsplash

When you said you don’t love me anymore I believed you.

Thinking back, I realized I didn’t know much about love, because it doesn’t just come and go like a wave on a beach, without control. Love either exists or not. Anymore cancels it. It means it never existed to begin with.

Logically I never understood you in the first place. We spoke different languages. Mine was of love.

When you threw that cold goodbye on Valentine’s day, as if I were a stranger who wished to harm you, you followed it with a spiteful shrug and turned your back…

Georgia Lewitt

Mom, spouse, health, fitness and yoga junkie, traveler, nature lover. We’re mortals. Smiles are free. Words matter.

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