We have the same conversation every day. I ask what she’s doing. She’d say either she’s watching TV or reading. And we end our FaceTime with her saying to me “有時間要回來喔。(come back when you have time.) ”
I’m not even sure if she realizes that I’m in the U.S., not somewhere a few metro stops away. In some ways it makes it easier for her, not knowing the actual physical distance between us..
I discovered this message written in chalk on pedestrian paths all over our community today. Some look pretty fresh. But a few look like someone tried to erase the information.
Today is one of those days that I feel oddly uninspired. I had to force myself to get out and capture a few images, still nothing seemed interesting.
What happened yesterday still flashes before my eyes. I lit a votive candle for the one that left this world so soon, so unexpectedly. I’m really sorry.. R.I.P.
Spotted this abandoned house on our way home from Farmington this afternoon. It’s covered in graffiti, which transforms this empty house into some sort of message board..
One of our favorite destinations in our own state is Bisti Badlands (De-Na-Zin Wilderness). We made an impromptu trip today and it occurred to me this time that we kept visiting the same area each time we were there.
“We really should explore other sites next time. Maybe even staying two nights in Farmington instead of just one.” I excitedly suggested.
My companion was quiet for a moment, barely responded.
At that moment I realized that I had neglected his age and condition. Honestly he was doing so well this afternoon that I almost forgot about the limitation comes with age. His recent physical therapy has been really helpful and his posture has improved. But the back pain and his legs continue to bother him, even though not as much as before he started his physical therapy.
I want to return to Bisti Badlands someday, I promise myself. More importantly I really want my companion to be the one to come back here with me, to witness this indescribable, magical, otherworldly formations for as many times as our fates would allow.
There were lots of stuff we sold, got rid of, or left behind when we moved here from New York. I kept and brought this small birdhouse on the day we left the East Coast. I remember my companion gave me a kind of funny look. But I didn’t care.
I painted that birdhouse. I even painted the roof red to match the trim color of our house. It was placed on top of a shadowbox fence under a massive pine tree. There were countless occupants over the years. Yes, this small birdhouse always reminds me of our small white house in New York.
The paint on the red roof has peeled off and it also serves no purpose now since I have it on the ground. It’s purely decorative, and a remnant of our life before the City Different.
It’s far from reality, but I do wish everyone would have a sweet life..
I was drawn by the macarons dedicated to Ukraine. Then I thought about what a cruel, crazy world we are living in.. I guess the title for today’s post might be considered insensitive. I mean no offense to anyone. But I do wish that we all could at least try to get along, no matter what differences we may have in this “me, me, me” society..
“Listen to your heart.” I remind myself. The future is still unwritten. The most difficult decisions are the ones you care most. When the time comes, you will know..
On the way to the recently restored farm windmill, nobody can miss this tree. I have captured countless variations of the same image. Funny I probably will never get tired of seeing or capturing this tree. There’s something about it that fascinates me. It’s full of possibilities, full of potential, full of life..
Everything changes constantly whether we are paying attention or not. It’s all around us, at every moment. And time, waits for no one.
