Tag: spirituality
member name: elizabeth e.
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July 12, 2007 09:19 PM EDT --
This past week I have been making runs to my sister's cranberry bogs on the other side of Carver for aged manure. Anne and her husband own acres and acres of cranberry bogs and in one of the . . .
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June 10, 2007 08:44 AM EDT --
Over the past several months since becoming active on Gather, I have noticed the icons of many people... for the most part they represent the person they want to be or the thing that they most value . . .
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March 18, 2007 09:48 AM EDT --
In June I received an email from my good friend Harry (Ann Harrington), my room-mate from the year I spent in a Jesuit mission in a Yu'pik community. She wrote that our fellow volunteer, Mary . . .
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May 13, 2007 11:55 AM EDT --
Two days before Mother's Day, I called my older sister Fran and asked her what we were doing for Mother's Day for our 90 year old Mom. It was a ruse...unknown to Fran, her husband Fred was . . .
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July 31, 2007 07:00 AM EDT --
. . .
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October 20, 2007 08:30 PM EDT --
Last night a rumbling, grumbling northeasterner came thundering into town raining raccoons and opossums this side of the pond. The wind was screeching and Papa's windchimes, all four of them, . . .
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April 02, 2008 07:48 AM EDT --
Sometimes....
Sometimes we search
For something Without
Wandering afar seeking
That which will complete
The yearning in our soul
Only to discover it was
Within . . .
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April 04, 2008 07:20 AM EDT --
Did I ever tell you
How much you
mean to me
Starting and ending
each day like bookends
on an old worn shelf
content in each other's
presence, whether in
conversation or not.
. . .
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June 09, 2007 06:04 PM EDT --
In the summer, I along with several friends journey to Wellfleet, Massachusetts for a two week sojourn to replenish our soul. I am an early riser and usually leave the Victorian house on Commercial . . .
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October 21, 2007 07:35 AM EDT --
Oh my goodness, just an incredible sunrise this morning I witnessed as I walked Tucker around the bogs and all I could do was sing out loud and clear words to a song I learned many years ago when the . . .
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November 18, 2007 12:37 PM EST --
I awoke early this morning, perhaps around four and silently went down the stairs in stocking feet. Going into the computer room, I brought up Gather and read my private emails. Then off . . .
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March 11, 2008 09:37 PM EDT --
" I am as curious about color as one would be visiting a new country, because I have never concentrated so closely on color expression. Up to now I have waited at the gates of the temple." . . .
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December 16, 2007 10:28 AM EST --
This is perhaps our first true winter walk
One down by the edge of the reservoir
There is a softer music now
on the wide swarth of the bog
Which the wind draws from the forest. . . .
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February 15, 2008 05:45 AM EST --
For Christmas, Lena, a parent of one of my kindergarteners gave me a gift certificate to have my cards read. Having never done this before, I was a wee bit apprehensive. Would the Reader tell me something . . .
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March 23, 2008 09:31 AM EDT --
Last Sunday the day was gray and rainy. Temperatures were hovering around twenty degrees. A friend called and asked if I might like go out for coffee...sounded like a plan...would get me out . . .
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June 20, 2007 11:45 AM EDT --
" Hey Auntie Anne, you and Duffy can go to Ireland over April vacation...don't cancel cuz of me. I'm going to have this bone marrow transplant on my birthday and I'll be good to . . .
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December 25, 2007 07:10 AM EST --
I have no words this Christmas morn except the words of Isaac Watts (1634-1748) and images from over forty years ago taken in bush Alaska among the Inuit people.
. . .
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January 01, 2008 10:21 AM EST --
A ramble through
unchartered woods
to a path overgrown
with brambles and thorns
and crusty moss covered rocks,
To a cabin in . . .
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February 22, 2008 10:20 AM EST --
Through his lens
He sees his world.
Through his eyes
We see the wonder
of the natural place
We call home.
Through his eyes
We see an old
country road
and the shadows
the . . .
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December 12, 2007 06:10 AM EST --
Through stately pine forests
no sounds are heard . . .
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