Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

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I’m Sandra, a camera-toting, recovering doer who’s learning to be. still. Read more…

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Five minutes of beach therapy tonight.

Five minutes of beach therapy tonight.

Mr. Grumpy Pants is in the neighborhood.

Mr. Grumpy Pants is in the neighborhood.

Peek-a-boo, Moon.

Peek-a-boo, Moon.

Our lake from a different angle. And just another

Our lake from a different angle. And just another sunset.

Walked out behind our neighborhood tonight. (See p

Walked out behind our neighborhood tonight. (See previous post.) Critter count: 4 bicyclists, dragonflies, bees, a spider, a couple camera-shy birds, and a tricolored heron overhead, probably headed to our backyard. No bobcats or gators or boars. Not even an iguana.

So that over there is the Everglades. And on my ri

So that over there is the Everglades. And on my right is our neighborhood. That’s how close we actually are. We’ve finally heard about a path we can cross over. On the docket for the weekend. Not with the dog. Lions and tigers and bears… oh my. Or bobcats and wild boars and coyotes.

And the stork went a-storking. Good Saturday morni

And the stork went a-storking. Good Saturday morning, Sir.

“Since Poets have told of sunset, What is left

“Since Poets have told of sunset,
What is left for me to tell?
I can only say that I saw the day
Press crimson lips to the horizon gray,
And kiss the earth farewell.”
~ Effie Lee Newsome in “Sunset”
🌴
Food truck date night. Perfect.

Evening walk around the hood.

Evening walk around the hood.

Breakfast Bunch

Breakfast Bunch

Big Iggy. This dude just stopped by for a Sunday v

Big Iggy. This dude just stopped by for a Sunday visit. I managed one snap before splashdown. He’s a bigger scaredy-cat than the smaller bright green ones that hang out here.

Bedtime for birdies.

Bedtime for birdies.

“Let it come, as it will, and don’t / be afrai

“Let it come, as it will,
and don’t / be afraid. God does not leave us /comfortless, so let evening come.” ~ Jane Kenyon in “Let Evening Come”

Morning harvest moon.

Morning harvest moon.

Yesterday was my husband’s birthday. So I took h

Yesterday was my husband’s birthday. So I took him hiking and found him a gator. I didn’t put a bow on it, though.

My dad still calls me “kid.” I’m 72. 🙄

My dad still calls me “kid.” I’m 72. 🙄

My countenance is about as dejected as this palm’s. Listen to me. Do. Not. Allow. Liquids. Next. To. Your. Computer. Lesson learned. Back to old-fashioned paper and pen for a few days. On the bright side… I should have a new computer without buying a new computer. Also, thank goodness for Apple Care and a gracious tech. But sigh…

“What keeps us from falling down, our faces / to

“What keeps us from falling down, our faces / to the ground; ashamed, ashamed?” ~Mary Oliver in “The Morning Paper” (Ouch)

Stumbled on these lines today. Poetry is timeless.

Stumbled on these lines today. Poetry is timeless.
🌱
“After every war
someone has to clean up.
Things won’t
straighten themselves up, after all.
Someone has to push the rubble
to the side of the road,
so the corpse-filled wagons
can pass.” ~ Wislawa Szymborska in “The End and the Beginning

… “So, friends, every day do something that wo

…
“So, friends, every day do something
that won’t compute. Love the Lord.
Love the world. Work for nothing.
Take all that you have and be poor.
Love someone who does not deserve it. . . .
Expect the end of the world. Laugh.
Laughter is immeasurable. Be joyful
though you have considered all the facts.” ~ Wendell Berry in “Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front,” selection found in Peggy Rosenthal’s Praying through Poetry: Hope for Violent Times

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