THE MORNING DOVES' REVEAL---

Good news for me this morning; I worried that my resident mourning dove couple had been carried off by the string of strong wind and snow storms. As with their seasonal return every year through the years, It became their strong habit to greet me each morning all through their season here on my property, communing from the rail of the deck outside my window. Then after strong wintry storms, they were gone!. I could only hope they had found a more sheltered place. Would I see them again? IN THE SUNSHINE THIS MORNING, they came back! There they were on the the rail, looking at me---and beside them a pretty young nestling in the same blue-gray color of the parents. It was Mama and Papa and baby! I moved to the window seat & they moved closer, strutting and performing to keep my attention. I WAS SO GLAD TO SEE THEM! (AND I WELCOME THE NEW MEMBER OF THEIR FAMILY!

APRIL IN THE SKY ...

AN ELDER'S THOUGHTS ABOUT WINTER ... All through my youth, I spent many a cold day or evening with skates on my feet, figure-skating with friends on a good public pond in the city in which I was raised. I LOVED the winters! I loved tobogganing too, and enjoyed winter cook-outs, and I even met my dear Bob on the night of a blizzard, and winters and snow would join my memories of our long happy marriage together. In life as a mom, I happily played in the snow with my kids and my grandkids and the kids of our neighbors, and even my dog; and I still made a few snowmen even after I realized I was no longer young enough and would soon be paying the price.. Now as a member of the "old-skin-and-bones generation," I rebel at the thought of the harsh cold and snow that's bound to come on with the winter, but I still have to smile at the thought of those big winter snowflakes falling around me. But at last I am forced to admit, I do spend more time in my own elder season, admiring the beauties of winters from INSIDE my warm house; not OUTSIDE with the COLD! But even if some would find it annoying, I still see the beauties in all of God's seasons in my northeast Ohio; even amid the shivers of winter. But if winter grows long, and if it gets mean, I do hope the Lord will forgive me if I raise my face to the snow and the cold being sent from His skies, and I earnestly ask for His mercy.

LATE AFTERNOON IN THIS DEEP VALLEY ...

THE TREES ARE VERY TALL AROUND THE HIGH RIM OF THIS VALLEY, AND THE SUN SLIDES EARLY DOWN BEHIND THEM BEFORE IT SENDS ITS LIGHT TOWARD ME FROM BEHIND THE FOREST IN THE BOTTOMLAND ... IN THESE MINUTES IN THE UPPER LANDS WHERE OTHERS LIVE, THERE'S STILL A LOT OF SPACE BETWEEN BLUE SKY AND TREE TOPS, AND THE SUN'S STILL HIGH FOR THEM. i LIKE THIS SPECIAL LITTLE TIME UNIQUE TO US; WHEN MY LOWER WOODLAND CAN BE BACKLIT SO BEAUTIFULLY, WHILE THE BOWL OF CLEAR SKY OVERHEAD STILL GIVES US DOWNWARD DAYLIGHT.

A FEW OF ROSE'S PERSONAL PHILOSOPHIES:

A FEW OF ROSE'S PERSONAL PHILOSOPHIES:

*Your past is part of you. If there were challenges and dark times, they honed and strengthened you. --R. Moore

*I see many signs around me that prove God has a sense of humor.--R. Moore

* Dependence is a subtle form of slavery; work is a character builder.--R. Moore

* The day need not rise in spectacular or colorful fashion to make us grateful for the dawn.--R. Moore

* Wrinkles are a small price to pay for sharing our smiles.--R. Moore * It's amazing how a good dog can remind you of how much youth you have lost... and of how much you still have!--R. Moore 

FOR THROWBACK THURSDAY ... HISTORICAL & ANCESTRAL COMPARISONS? ...

 

This is considered to be a historically accurate image of Grace Sherwood, known as the "Witch of Pungo," by historians of Pungo, in old Princess Ann Virginia.

When I was 14, I was told she and my mother, who also was raised in Princess Ann/Pungo, bore strong resemblance to each other in images of the two at about the same age. My mother and Grace Sherwood,  at different points in time, also both had familial connection with the Lynnhaven Church of Pungo, which in earlier times had declared Grace Sherwood to be a witch.

This photo is an old image of my late mother, Mary Ellen Bruce, and I always did see a familial likeness between images of both women. 

What do YOU think? Am I a descendant of a witch? There HAVE been some, I suppose, who might have agreed this would not surprise them. 

(Particularly after some of the fiery newspaper editorials I have written over the years).

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