The Richness of Autumn

The air here in Annapolis has cooled. Starting out in morning, the thermometer registers low sixties and rises only to mid-seventies later in the day. Our famous humidity has vanished. The oaks and sycamores have not yet begun to turn crimson and gold, but it is, without a doubt, autumn. The equinox of the season…

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Tails Are Wagging in the Daffodils

Spring arrived yesterday with the vernal equinox. Two daffodils and a yellow and a purple crocus have popped up in the small, curved garden alongside my driveway. Every year, I have the same surge of hope for the new season, with all its blooms and possibilities. But today, it is rainy and raw, and those…

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Illumination from Blackwater Woods

Here is my favorite poem of all time–particularly apt at this time of year, as autumn takes over our world. It uses an incredible metaphor that speaks to living your life with authenticity. God bless you, Mary Oliver. Yours,

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Trading Blizzards For Blossoms

It’s cherry blossom time in Washington, D.C., and many visitors will descend upon the city to see the famed annual unfolding of pink and white petals. I live in nearby Annapolis, and though it’s my first year here, I know that the prolific opening of these blooms means that all of us can rejoice. Springtime…

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