View points. Points of view.
Small, green ball of light that follows me in my pictures from Nanaimo to Nelson.
Pointing.
Glowing.
Showing me one more thing.
Listen, it says.
There’s much more here than meets the eye.
Don’t look for it.
Feel it.
View points. Points of view.
Small, green ball of light that follows me in my pictures from Nanaimo to Nelson.
Pointing.
Glowing.
Showing me one more thing.
Listen, it says.
There’s much more here than meets the eye.
Don’t look for it.
Feel it.





During a Spirit Call this week (an online gathering I do weekly for women), I used a prompt to help us connect with what

My friend Kim wrote a piece inspired by this pic I showed her, and how I told her I didn’t want to smile at

The day before Wanaka passed away, I told Brian I wanted to keep up our morning and evening ‘poop walk’ routine (except without the

This was her last day. We played with her ball, gently, in the yard. Smelled the scents in the gentle breeze. The sun was
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