Practice Makes Progress

It was a week ago that I happened upon a Snowy Owl while on a walk at Sachuest Point National Wildlife Refuge. Truth be told, I probably would never have seen her had it not been for a  group of bootleg photographers I’d run into in the parking lot. I’d ventured across the two bridges to Aquidneck Island to register as a volunteer and to walk along it’s unspoiled, pristine shoreline. 

I approached this curious gathering of camera enthusiasts as they huddled at the edge of the parking lot. They held all manner of decadent photography equipment in their possession, each one aiming toward something in the sky unseen by my naked eye. I asked warily of them if they were “birders”. I say “warily” because, not being a birder, I use caution when approaching birders. I’m unfamiliar with birding terms and not in possession of the patience required for such an admirable pursuit. “No, we’re photographers.” Someone replied. “What are you looking at?” I said. “A something-or-other-harrier.” Was her response. Even I knew this was a bird. Yet, I did know there was a Snowy Owl at Sachuest Point and since I was here and walking with my camera anyway, I figured these people would best know where to spot it. 

I went inside, accomplished my intended goal of registering as a volunteer hoping they’d still be there upon my return. Viola! They were. They welcomed me along as they headed onto the trail. They spotted one only a short distance in, sitting in a thicket on a hilltop. The only noise was the wind. We took many photos. Most of mine were blurred due to distance, cold, wind, inexperince, excitement and not having all of that very high end equipment. I enjoyed being with the group, made a few new acquaintances and we went our merry ways.

Yesterday I returned to Sachuest for another walk with my camera, thinking I may run into some of the same folks again or perhaps another owl. Sure enough the owl was there in the same spot in the thicket. What luck! I snapped a few photos and continued with my walk.

As I rounded the turn at Flint point on the northern end, the south wind disappeared. The only sound was that of the waves lapping against the rocks. The sun shone from the south. I climbed down onto the rough rocks to fully experience what was before me and there, sitting atop the highest rock, she was. Slowly and quietly I scrambled toward her, sneakily snapping photos as I went. Not even the ssh-ssh noise of my shutter disturbed her majestic countenance.

After a few minutes, the sun felt so warm that I had to shed some of my winter layers. I found a comfortable nook between rock layers, put my camera down and we shared that spot, the Snowy Owl and I. Alone together sunbathing on a mid March afternoon in New England.

I wondered just what, if anything she thought of me there, staring at her. I wondered if she was as relaxed and composed, in charge as she appeared. I had many questions. I wondered if she thought, “Wow, look at that human. What a beautiful sight. I think I’ll just sit here and spend some time with her, share this space in the universe before we move on.” 

Then I wondered why I had to do all of that wondering and decided to quiet the noise, immitate my feathered friend and just breath.

Here she is. The Snowy Owl.

Photo Creds: nbwildephotography 

<a href=””>Noise</a&gt;


Meander To Me

Meander to me faithful one of words that captivate my soul

Saunter toward my open heart splayed out in fields of heather

Walk into these arms awaiting your torrid embrace

Grasp my mind within your hands of spirited strength

Kiss with honeyed lips my lips of desire

Lay beside one who looks upon you with eyes of mysterious wonder 

Seize a love that’s true

<a href=””>Meander</a&gt;

Suddenly! A Bike, A Flower, A Bee, And A Beach

September, 2017

I’d like to complain that it was too cold out, summer was drawing to a rapid close and gas prices were skyrocketing, but


look at this flower and was going on inside it.

The sun was shining through a dry, crisp air. It was suddenly September.

My legs worked well enough to pedal me there and back without the use of gas from those poor folks in Texas. 

What they were suffering was the first level of hell.

It sometimes takes an event as monumental as that to cause one to reflect on one’s own good fortune.

I’m never far from knowing that “There, but for the sake of God, go I”, but these act of God reminders are stark.

On that sparkling first September day my companion, Cameron McMonocle stunned me once again with his keen eye for detail. To think that I almost left him at home.
I found and was able to afford food, drink and a pleasant surprise in a rare local garden I’d previously thought was highly overrated. As well, my spontaneous decision to explore a road less travelled revealed a peaceful, hidden seaside oasis tucked away in a corner that on this day, resembled paradise.
Local, friendly folks readily greeted me with a kind hello and wished me well with broad, genuine smiles and outstretched hands.
I pedaled, I rested, I walked, I waded in the gentle water. I contemplated.

This was one of those rare late summer days that was so simply refreshing that the whole ride home I felt like a schoolgirl. The still wet behind the ears, “fancy Nancy ants in your pantsy” girl, with a crush on the most handsome boy who just told her he had the same crush and offered to carry her books home for her.❤

How utterly freeing is that?
So complain?
Not today.

Lotus with buzzing bees

Written spontaneously in September, 2017 after a local bike ride along the scenic Rt. 1A in Washington County, Rhode Island .

Posted in response to WordPress daily post word promp, suddenly.

Photo Creds: wilde.woven.words

a href=””>Suddenly</a&gt;

The Wonder Of Change

It seems we New Englander’s maintain a love/hate relationship with our weather. It sure has its ups and downs. We take the good with the bad. More of the good. We grumble, we rejoice. We plan, we cancel. We go ahead with our plans anyway. A little rain never killed anyone. Right? We love our sunshine, our mountains, forests, and rivers, hills and valleys, lakes and oceans. Many of us love even the snow! And yes, we love the outdoors. Some love it in summer, others in spring, others prefer fall, a few love to be outside in seasons all. Whatever our preference, there is a reason we stay here in New England. Perhaps it’s that warm, cozy fire with a good book in winter, or your favorite soup recipe to heat your insides. Maybe you’re blessed enough to have one to cuddle with on those cold, blustery nights. Come spring, you may love to til the soil, plant your garden, observe fresh new life coming forth in the flowers. Summer brings out the best in us. Kids are fancy free, we hit the trails, the beaches, the parks, museums, we gather together for holidays filled with hot dogs, Apple pie, parades, swimming holes, friends and family. Fall brings another kind of remembrance, a different flavor to our lives.

Whatever your reason, if you’re still here, you more than likely have felt a bit off put by the brutal weather of the past couple of weeks. I hope these few photos of the first Forsythia blooms and nature contemplating awakening at least bring a bit of hope that indeed, Spring is on the way.

Inevitably, our seasons bring the wonder of change.

Forsythia in bloom morning following snowfall in South Kingstown, RI. 3.8.18

Snowy Owl in moment of respite. Sachuest Point National Wildlife Refuge.  Middletown, RI. 3.9.18


<a href=””>Wonder</a&gt;

photo creds: wilde.woven.words

Luckiest Girl

Nostalgia’s really not my thing 
It brings a melancholy ring
Craving a time gone past in my life
was no small part of my yarn unraveling
frozen in time
tightly clinging
locked in a place
walking the line while restlessly sleeping.

Memory of wanting to be forever a Mom

to one little boy named Jeff so peacefully calm

Boys are my favorite, this boy was grand.
Fair was his hair, strawberry blond
whisps through my fingertips 
pure love in each strand.

His laughter was heaven 
How we’d play!
Luckiest girl to ever have lived I would say
Blessed more than ever
I couldn’t have planned

The whole world in my hand

Memories of Dad, man of few who were made
Mom so peristent I was relieved when I caved
Sisters four, secrets, fun everlasting
Brothers two, make me proud of who’s who
Girlfriends who share every fantastical idea
of boyfriends who made me glad I was here😉
Husband Oh him, the good with the bad
ups and downs, more ups we had
Cousins, aunts, uncles, nephews and nieces
Misty nostalgia breaks me to pieces

Remembering there was a time
all of my life if I must rhyme
when everywhere I ever wanted to be
was with my family, near to the sea
Close too its edge, the surf and  sand
Thunderous crashes of wave against land
because edges are like the lady once said,
I’ve too many sharp ones
quick off my tongue drawn from my head

Nostalgia’s a dangerous double edged sword
Some memories dreamlike seducing me toward
Others claw at my soul through the night
dementia for these a welcomed sight
Enough of them over I’ve poured

Yarn almost rolled up in a ball
Living the moment, gratitude all future forward
Song of hope
I hear its call.

In response to writing group prompt “I remember”


WordPress daily prompt “Wonder“>wonder

<a href=””>Wonder</a&gt;


​What is wrong

When did you change 

Become uncompromising

Heart rearranged

I remember it came on the wings of a dove

Ace of hearts, first letter

Future wife, your first love

Why silent thunder

When innocent love

Is all that I offer

With queries of him

I beg of you

If there’s heaven above

My heart walks down that gravely road
Sixteen hundred my sole to corrode

Son of fair hair

In dream and nightmare

Awaits for me, hates for me there

You won’t live forever

Then what will he do

When for years he has said to me 

“Nothing is you.”



“>uncompromising<a href=””>Uncompromising</a&gt;