Garden path

This pathway with its large fond du lac stones paves the way to my secret garden. Spring! It's just beginning to bloom.

Spring Beckons

Diary of a Hopelessly Romantic Pragmatist

To say I was missing something wouldn’t be true.  Life has a way of filling its empty spaces with purpose and familiar passions.

The goodness I have in my life feels like an heirloom tapestry...it is worn and wonderful.  I feel its frayed patches and its velvety folds.  I wrap my family in its warmth.  It is a colorful life handmade from loose ends and silken strands.  A beautifully imperfect life with the threads of good moves and missed opportunities woven together.

And yet, there’s something unsaid, unknown.  I think I found it crumpled and forgotten in the pocket of a too-small pair of jeans.  Faded, yet beautifully detailed, it was the softly colored romantic dream I’d carried in my heart. And now, I keep it safe in that pocket, afraid that if I open it up in the bright light of day, it will disappear.