Afternoon sun beckons us to join the party.
Old Florida still remains, secluded and still, for seekers.
We’re untethered from daily routine, ready to connect with people and places.
We gather in the warm kitchen as the winter sun paints the sky red.
My mother’s kitchen, teakettle ready for instant coffee on her GE stove. (High School sketchbook, circa 1965)
My old chairs gather around the table, waiting for dinner and conversation.
In deep winter, we dream of distant river journeys.
The old house waits for the next train to rumble past.