by Deb Farris | Jul 6, 2019 | Devotions
Trees shed evening rain silver beads in morning light. Who expected jewels from the sky? Not I. If I stood beneath, unfurled my fingers, I could reach out and catch a drop or two. But from my perch I’ll watch and view nature’s work revealed in hues of green and see...
by Deb Farris | Oct 19, 2018 | Memoir, Musings, Poetry
I think the pumpkins are going to make it this year. There must be enough in the neighborhood to keep the squirrels eating courses, traveling from house to house like we’ve always wanted to do ourselves: first course at Winnie’s, second at Connelly’s , third at...
by Deb Farris | Jun 30, 2018 | Musings, Poetry
I stood at a fork in the road. White petals blew in the wind. One road led through a canopy of trees offering shade from the heat of the sun. But the other was adorned with petals and led on through a silky light. The trunk of the tree stood wide and strong and firmly...
by Deb Farris | Sep 17, 2017 | Musings, Uncategorized
At times in our lives, my sister and I both realized we were a little off course. Our choices didn’t always align with our parents, but we were given a lot of freedom to make our own decisions. On this particular day though, we had chosen our parents’ preferred route...
by Deb Farris | Apr 14, 2017 | Musings
Rising to a new day is like preparing for a dance lesson–you might resist the challenges that lie ahead or step into it with hopeful expectancy. Either way, the opportunity is there to rise to new heights of movement within yourself and with others–moving...
