“The vast landscape was never ours to begin with, we are all tenants of the same good earth. Surrounded by the enchanting tourist attractions, one forgets. One becomes enamored by the sounds, smells and tastes. Time? Time mattered less.” – Jacqueline Cioffa
Wouldn’t it be lovely if kindness, loyalty and showers of affection were our biggest faults?
Wouldn’t it though?
It would be awfully, awfully nice.
It is lovely in the company of my shadow.
The spirit animal who teaches me patiently and without judgement
the crazy curious inexplicable mystery that is uncomplicated love.
For one glorious moment I forget, all the exhausting complicated human parts.
I’m free. On the walk.
I don’t care how I look on the outside,
neither does she.
A gorgeous 5 Star Review that describes in detail the beauty and complexity that is “Georgia Pine” The perfect synopsis, with a Kristin Hannah and Penny Vincenzi mention. This book’s author is in excellent company.
“Georgia Pine” – love the name, love the character, love the novel!
“For those of you who fell in love with Harry in “The Vast Landscape” and wanted the saga to continue, Jacqueline Cioffa has answered your call with her new novel, “Georgia Pine”. It continues the story of Harrison, Zack and their daughter Addie and her 4 girls – each one uniquely searching for her own happiness. Interwoven into this is the story of the narrator, who, after an accident that has left her permanently physically disabled, is able to escape her broken body into the vast landscape of her imagination. And in so doing unwittingly inspires a reader, who is walking a tightrope between living and dying, to opt for hope. Another great read from Ms. Cioffa! She continues to top my list, along with Kristin Hannah and Penny Vincenzi.”
…and all that crap. It seems we get to the end of the year, take stock and make false niceties. I won’t bore you with the details of my year, it was average. I have come to the conclusion I am not fabulous, have no super powers and the magic of Christmas flew out a crack in an open window ages ago. And that, is perfectly fine by me. Much to my chagrin, I climb the four flights of stairs to the attic more times than I can count, open the secret partition and drag down the minimum, outdated necessary decor; a worn, white feather wreath, forty-year old, beat up Santa doll waving and smiling, reindeer ornament strung by his neck floating in free fall (did that on purpose for my own entertainment). Yeah I cave for someone else, not for me. Maybe I learned a little kindness, tolerance this banner year. Who can say? Maybe, just maybe I’m stuck between tradition and the open road. One thing I know, karma is a nasty bitch. Best be cheery, fake it even when you don’t feel like it. The Zen room remains free and clear of red, white and green. Happy Holidays y’all, whichever road your traveling down.
…one must be more specific
There is beauty in ice sculptures, black leaves, sand granules and zebra mussel shells
Someone carved a number into the willow
I wonder what it meant and how long it’s become piece of the bark
Are they dead and buried, the secret etched inside the tree’s history?
I cannot say
I had not seen before
The biting winter air keeps me alert, alive noticing the minute details
I slow my pace, paying no attention to time and space, focusing on the grays above
and the black ripples before me
When dreaming of a beach one must specify the horizon