Today we walked half-way across the Golden Gate Bridge on a beautiful day.  We went up to Hawk Hill.  Grandchild found a stick and a hole.  Add two rocks and a home for a bird in her nest appeared.  Life works like that.  

What was said to the rose that made it open was said to me here in my chest. 

– Rumi  

I haven’t stayed connected with my high school class but thanks to social media, I am now connected.  This morning I learned that another from my class of 1967 has passed away.  She had dementia the last few years.  I try to align the information with the exuberant cheerleader I remember.  She’s not the only one I know my age who has gotten dementia and passed away.

It’s an odd entry into this new day where gratitude is the only song I need.  I hear the garbage trucks as my garbage sorted into three cans, trash, recycling and compost, is carted away.

Connection – 

Molting – 

Trust that bonds are never broken, simply carried away – like the moon pulling the tides.