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Category Archives: Seasons

Thanksgiving Thoughts: The Anti Thanksgiving Post.

Why turkey? Is it because it only comes in one size—gigantic—and not small and cute like those cute little roaster chickens we eat during the rest of the year?

Whose idea was it that we should all gather with family? Is it to show us how grateful we are to be able to leave them?

Have you ever noticed that on the week of Thanksgiving there is a ton of food in the house, but nothing to eat Monday through Wednesday? Once all that Thursday cooking is done, the fridge is empty, and so is your wallet because you spent your entire food budget on food for just one day.

Want to see the scariest place on earth? Visit a supermarket on Thanksgiving week. It’s as if everyone just suddenly remembered a holiday we celebrate every year at the same time was upon them.

Seriously, why do we eat the same meal every year? It’s a little creepy, almost as if we’ve been brainwashed. (Yes, I do understand what the word tradition means, but if you’re asking me that, you clearly don’t understand what the word sarcastic means)

Who are you fooling with that fancy china? No one gives a crap what their plate looks like when it’s slathered in gravy.

Why does Thanksgiving have to “kick off” the holiday season? Do we really need a whole “season” for holidays?

Who decided that standing on line at four am (not for a club) all drunk on turkey was a fun idea? How in the hell did they get that many people to buy into it??

Does anyone really watch the Thanksgiving Day Parade?  Have you seen those creepy floats?  I mean really, people.


It’s official—Thanksgiving is an obligatory pain in the ass, and I’m grateful that every year I get to say it.


I hope you all survive the endless eating and encounters with family 🙂


Just Before Sunset.

The air is soft and comforting; a soft  blanket of breeze flutters the hair, caresses the face. The earth is covered in peaceful silence. An occasional bird sings, perhaps a love song to its mate; inspired by the moment.  The dropping sun emits a soft glow like candlelight, soothing and romantic, like golden liquid dripping from azure sky.  The color of the grass is meandering… retiring summer green, paving the way for a cascade of colorful leaves. The wildflowers are shrinking, but no less radiant—fading purple flowers on fading green grass, a perfect compliment from the paintbrush of Mother Nature, a final goodbye to the season.  I feel compelled to linger, to feel the fresh air delight my skin; make my lungs feel pure and refreshed.  I stare at the trees, which in days will sport the decadent colors of fall before giving way to the stoic skeleton arms of winter.

Brake Tapping Is Not A Sport… (and other summer rules)

Oh, summer. We meet yet again for a few joyous months of drenching humidity, scorching sun, bugs, grilled meat, and traffic, traffic, traffic.  Ah, yes, all kinds traffic. Out- of- Towner traffic.  ‘I don’t recognize that license plate’ traffic.  ‘I can’t seem to travel on my own roads’ traffic. So lovely, so welcoming. So, this post is for you, you “from elsewhere visitors”, and also for those of you who plan to be elsewhere this summer. I will be the friendliest local, and I promise locals will be nice to you if you merely heed my advice.

Number One: Brake tapping is not a sport. I don’t know if it is where you come from, but here, it’s frowned upon.  We like the accelerator here, especially if you’ve positioned yourself in the left lane… which brings me to my second point…

Number Two: The left lane is for people who like to drive, not ‘brake tap.’  Contraire to what the “signs” say, the left lane is not for “passing only,” it’s for those of us who like to drive. Fast. Now move.

Number Three: You don’t live here, so don’t act like you own the place! That means no harassing locals, no cursing at those of us who know where we are going, no being loud and obnoxious at the beach (okay, so that’s a lost cause, but it was a valiant effort on my part, no?)

Number Four: No need to bring your entire life to the beach.  That includes, but is not limited to: coolers with wheels, multiple coolers with wheels, whole watermelons, foot long heroes, two radios, two umbrellas,   your entire extended family and a full size tent.   Please also don’t talk “business” on your cell phone while you are shirtless in a beach chair. This does not make you look powerful or important. No one cares about you, your money or your job.  We care about relaxing on our beach.  Now shut it.

Adapt to the environment you are in, not the other way around. That’s the whole point of travel—getting out of your comfort zone… not bringing it with you.

Seems simple, doesn’t it?

You’re So Pretty in the Spring, New York.

Sometimes, it’s necessary to wander to find inspiration. This week, I chose early morning in New York City, sort of by accident. It delivered.

Wrought iron guards with elegant, antique beauty.

Welcome, Spring.

The world seems drenched in an endless glow of pink.

Flowers pop up along every path; skeleton trees seem to smile at their newborn leaf hands.

The buzz word “rebirth” fills the air.

Staring at mobs of pink, I ponder “rebirth.”

Renewal. Resurrection.  A stream of words… but what do they mean?

A new chance. A break from the routine. New eyes on old visions. New visions.

A second, third, fourth chance from the universe.


Be determined. Change. Continue. Look up if you used to look down.

Take a chance, a risk.

If it doesn’t work– smile, laugh.

Every spring is another “rebirth.”

All photography by me.  🙂

Spring Preview.

One day you wake up and the earth feels different. You feel an urge to get outside, gather the early morning hours for your very own. The harsh wind has changed into a lazy, smooth breeze. You can smell the scent of earth ever so slightly on the tip of your nose as you step into the yawing morning, blue grey tinted with orange sun. The ground gives slightly under your feet; a resurgence of mud, celebrating its freedom from the freeze.

The sun shines mildly, shyly, as if testing the reaction of the world. People are smiling. They have abandoned their wool coats and heavy socks with joy, even if only for today. They ignore the fact that it is still February and Mother Nature is playing a joke, giving a short preview of the coming attractions.  The sky is soft, resting from the harshness, resting from the snow, sleet, rain. It smiles cautiously, as if playfully warn us, don’t get too attached; tomorrow I will be gone and you will be left longing.

Ode to Winter.

The air is cold, crisp, fresh. A deep breath shocks the lungs. The air hangs in stillness around the earth; cold, dark, motionless.  It is winter; a season that is stoic and serious, yet stunning in beauty and natural wonder. Winter is not coy or bashful—it is exposed, raw.  The trees stand naked, no playful leaves to decorate them and sway this way or that way, showing lighthearted whimsy. There is only pure tree– bare, raw, and eerie in its stillness. There is only the tree standing alone; making its bold statement of identity. 

The mornings creep up slowly, a sluggish simmer from darkness to light.  The clouds loom overhead and we know not what to expect. Winter is unpredictable. In one moment, the sun glows from above, creating the illusion of warmer times. In a flash, the sun is kidnapped and replaced with spots of gloomy grey that threaten to turn into something ominous—freezing rain? Snow? Ice?  All of these? It’s unknown, left to the discretion of Mother Nature.  She sends snow—big, mis-shaped flakes of pure white that flicker, float and land on the bare earth that winter has exposed. The snowflakes pile and become a blanket of purity, asking the world to slow down and reflect.  The earth is covered by a silence that only snow can create. It seems as if time is standing still. Staring out the frost covered window, it could be 1811 or 2011, who could tell? The snow has come; the world has stopped, if only just for a moment.

Photos by Lisa