Walk with Me …

Autumn is settling in, the leaves are crispy underfoot, and the sparkle on the river is courtesy of a sun meeting the trees a little earlier each day. Come walk with me …

The path to the river is thick and overgrown with the remains of summer. It’s just a step over the old, forgotten railroad tracks and through barely matted weeds to the crest overlooking the river’s edge.

Greens become burgundy and slowly drape over a slate walkway.

A faceless wraith overlooking the road to the bridge.

Late afternoon shadows fall across dried leaves, grass, and the road, which runs parallel to the river.

Froggy statuary graces a small garden spot. I am tipping my hat to Portland as I pass.

The Delaware River, looking north, a view that never wears thin, especially when it reflects a sky so insistently blue.

Covered with tombstones, ghosts, and mums, my neighbor’s fence looks even spookier at night with orange and purple lights, a big draw to Halloween night’s trick or treaters.

I never fail to be aware, and grateful, for the beauty and kindness that surrounds me where I live. Especially now. Quality of life counts for a lot.

Start the week loved …

You are worthy of love, and you are loved. You deserve all the good there is. You inspire others and don’t even know it.

So please keep shining.

Photo thanks: hello aesthe/pexels

The Woman and the Dog

It was in the late 80’s on the Lower East Side that I saw her, a woman sharing her quilt with a beautiful Harlequin Great Dane on a street corner at Cooper Square .

I just had to go and say hello to the dog, as we animal lovers are often wont to do. When I came closer, I saw that the woman was very clean, but shabbily dressed, perhaps wearing the only clothes she owned. The dog’s coat was so bright, you needed sunglasses. I could see she was homeless, and her dog was undoubtedly her life.

“May I pet your dog?” I asked. The sun rose in her face and shone with joy.

“Please, sit down,” she offered.

I sat on the quilt, and proceeded to pet and get all mushy with the affectionate Dane. I asked about him, and she was absolutely elated to be able to talk about her magnificent companion. Soon, I was telling her about my Chloe at home, a pit bull terrier who had come to the shelter at 6 months old with a broken leg. We chatted and laughed about our dogs, animals, and life in general as any two new acquaintances would do.

At some point, I had to get going, and we said our goodbyes, still smiling and glowing. I stopped at a small market to get a sandwich and coffee, and decided to get the same for her plus a bag of dog food for the Dane. But when I returned to the corner, she was gone, perhaps shooed away by the police, or maybe that was the amount of interaction she could tolerate; one couldn’t know.

I hoped this beautiful homeless soul would find some peace, comfort, and safety with her dog. I have never forgotten them. A recent event brought them to mind again.

On a particular TV channel (whose “news” I will never watch, and which is heavily constructed of lies), two hosts were talking about the “homeless problem”. One said that if the homeless weren’t willing to accept the resources the city offered, they should be locked up. The other replied, ““Or involuntary lethal injection, or something. Just kill ’em.” Yes, you read that correctly, as unbelievable as it may seem. You can find that clip here.

How has this situation come so far? While homelessness cuts across race, gender, and nationality, essentially, these are people suffering severe economic hardship. They may be our veterans, having seen combat in wars overseas; they come home with PTSD, are unable to manage life, and find no one to help them.

They are former patients of mental institutions, released when it was decided to shut down the hospitals, giving people already unable to cope with life the responsibility of getting somewhere on their own to pick up their meds. But more often than not, they are people who lost their jobs, their home, their car … everything … and had nowhere to turn. They are our neighbors. And there but for some saving grace, they are you. They are me.

Why we have homelessness is not due to a lack of money; it’s due to a lack of love.

The responsibility sits on the shoulders of your average citizen all the way up to elected leaders who have zero concern for humanity and are comfortable fostering hate. Or they simply don’t see the homeless as human beings. Or a priority.

But we – you and I – can still make a difference by continuing to be kind and caring, and believing that this multiplies exponentially, even if slower than we’d like. Peace always begins with us.

Please keep shining.

Making It Worth It

I feel like I’m pretty safe in saying that anyone reading this post is at a point in life that if it’s worth doing at all, we want to make it worth it.

Please use your imagination and forgive the “sketch-like” appearance of the above image I created. I had a great school visit last week, and in all the excitement with the kids, we forgot to take any photos.

A school visit will always include a reading of one’s book, Q and A at the end, and some information for the children related to the book. In my case, I have discussed identifying butterflies, facts about them, plus information on the importance of pollinators, to which butterflies belong.

But it all wasn’t exciting ME. What would make ME excited about doing this book visit with “Butterflies”? What did I need to share that would have more value?

What could the story and the butterflies themselves teach? Now I had it!

Three takeaways: Use your imagination, based on our discussing Stella’s amazing interpretation of a butterfly’s appearance; always be kind to animals, based on advising kids never to touch a butterfly’s wings, lest it lose scales and be unable to fly; and embrace change, because life is full of changes, and we can be like the butterfly fighting its way out of the chrysalis, saying, “I can do this”, and “this change will make me stronger.”

Above are the 8.5″ x 11″ placards I made. The takeaways had the attention of these 6-8 year olds. And me.

Life isn’t getting any longer here. I feel a greater need to make whatever I do matter. Especially now. More than ever, we need our compassion and humanity not only intact, but strengthened. I hope I did that for a couple of those kids.

Looking to 2025

2024 has been a challenging year for many.
Be proud of all you’ve accomplished.
All your hard work will support your efforts in 2025.
Choose you;
choose the people who truly see you
and love you as you are.
Happy New Year.