L’air …

A very short season, giving Cecilia a reason to share her wonderful philosophy on life, with a magical turn of phrase!

No matter how deep life throws her, she rises to the surface and swims above the storms on a cloud of positivity.


Yesterday the air felt dense. Not hot and not cold, just full and thick. The clouds stayed low, heavy, old, bosomy. Like flat pillows. There was no wind and little sound. Even the birds were quiet. The night crickets played their instrumental feet softly as though the night was nigh – all day their orchestra played. The day barely lifted from its grey night.

The Professor, the little kitten, died yesterday morning with a small sigh of relief, the quiet stillness of the awakening barn wrapped about him like a drifting veil.  He had been living here for one week .

I know I have said this before but it is a cornerstone of my manifesto. Each soul that touches yours has value. No matter how long that touch lasts. It has worth. It is a lesson. So listen.

Some relationships are very short – snippits, flashes.

Like the time I was down in the subway in Paris…

View original post 613 more words