I’m one of the first to cross the threshold of the river into the canyon. The squeals that greeted me for last year’s retreat echo softly, then dissipate. I survey the dock and envision who stood where, who sat where, who clicked cameras. I remember skin-against-skin in hugs and handshakes. All’s silent now, still, save […]
31 Days on Coming to Grips with My Age ~ Day 2: A Magic Bullet
Sometimes I prefer carpet to chair. I can still criss-cross-applesauce. I’m a dashboard foot-propper gal. I can bend over, touch fingertips to floor. But my knees complain on a climb. I move slower. Clutter and chaos confuse me. I tire faster. I fear falling. My bones are soft. “I don’t want to be like my mom,” I […]
31 Days on Coming to Grips with My Age ~ Day 1: Botox, Bumps, and Bunions
I catch just a snippet of conversation. “You need to shave what?” “My chin,” she says. “My mother never told me I’d need to shave my chin. Our mothers need to tell us these things.” This is a place where real comes easy. Where we can speak the unspeakable, whisper a secret. And we laugh. […]
Into His Presence
Blue Hole at Laity Lodge It’s a two-hour drive from the airport in San Antonio to Laity Lodge. I watch the city clutter fall away as we head into the hill country, pass through open land dotted with live oaks and scrubby vegetation. I’ve tucked my Horseshoe Lake poem in my pocket because I’ve registered […]
It Will Not End Up Here
How did I end up here wrapped in a circle of poets (I don’t even call myself a poet) where we showed up to taste peaches and wild grapes, to crush the flesh of nectarine and sing fig songs? How did I end up here in cedar-scented sacred breeze benched above a liquid mirror […]
Turned Around at Laity Lodge
Am I really here? All week we’ve gathered in the Great Hall, sunk in soft sofas or perched on chairs, and faced the fireplace. And my heart burned with words and songs, and tears flowed, but they could not extinguish the flames. Since Thursday, I’ve felt embraced by the canyon and living avatars. This morning, […]
I Have This Need . . .
They came back last year. Full and flowing and bubbling over like the Frio inself. The High Calling editors. Their words carved a hole in my soul. An aching yawn in my heart that longs to be filled with the beauty of a Texas canyon. To embrace those who have become like family. L.L., who […]
