A love story.

This is my most favorite piano piece written. It haunts my heart. It moves me to tears every time. I see stories every time though there are no words. Sometimes they are the same one and sometimes not. I suppose that is the power that music has.
Tell me what story you see when you hear this piece.

Full.

Dearest Readers, I haven't vanished.
I run circles in the daylight absorbing sunshine and dance to the whispers of the moon. My lens has become the eye through which I view the world. I can't wait to unload my camera card and share with you what I've seen. Each click has within it a story I am furiously starting to write. My story. Each day a new wonder, a new joy, another adventure reveals itself and I accept as one who is called to does.
I am desperate for a little bit more time - another minute, hour, day, week. Anything more. Full is a word that has been lingering in the air I breathe. Full of life, family, love. Full is exactly the way this moment was meant to be.
Tell me, what has you full?
Warm wishes of adventure for your weekend! Mine will have a story to tell for next week.

Without a plan.

Today started with a to-do list. Somewhere between the time I got up and the time I reached the kitchen, that list changed.
It went from a must-do, can-do, want-to-do kind to a just-let-the-day-decide kind. For today, it is working perfect.
Little Miss K is catching some zzz's. Mr. S is deep into a movie with his Daddy. I'm ignoring the things that were on the list to take some time for serious silence and dreams. There is something inside me that is yearning for more. Maybe I've caught the cabin fever bug. Maybe I'm done with the snow and just cold enough weather. Maybe the dreary days are wearing on me. I know I'm extremely thankful that today is a vacation one.
Let's dream...
The setting: A cozy cabin with wood walls. The perfect chair to snuggle into. A roaring fireplace with its flames licking at the glass door. A great book and a delicious glass of Valpolicella in my hand. The sun is just dropping behind the trees and the blackness of night is close.
There is a knock at the door.
Who are these evening visitors at my door?