déjà vu

in French means literally "already seen"

Henrietta backdropped by the Vernon Marsh

All who’ve been walking with me for a while might feel as if we’re stepping back in time?

How many stories, photos, and poems have connected us through the antics of nature and a furry black Labrador (Mara, then Henny) — tromping, skipping, plodding, stop-starting, running, and/or walking through the Vernon marsh?

In my early days of publishing stories, the wetlands became a character whose beauty and mystery fed my external curiosity while offering hills, valleys. and waterholes where I could explore my inner landscape.

Then came The Muses, drawing and painting, and c(ancer).

And even though regular walks through the woods, on the dikes, and next to the train tracks continue, the marsh slid from star player to solid, subconscious advisor — part of who I’ve become.

This week on the One Line, One Love podcast I was gifted an opportunity to talk with Jay about how environment affects us as writers.

Aren’t we all writers?
Writing the stories of our lives?

The morning after that conversation, I parked in a familiar gravel parking lot and loosed Henny from the back seat. Often I leave distraction in truck’s console, but yesterday I tucked my phone into my back pocket with an intention to capture home through a fresh, mature lens.

The photos above are but a stand in for lived experience.

What steps are you taking today?

When we can read God directly, the hour is too precious to be wasted in other men’s transcripts of their readings.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson