My heart stopped. Tears welled in my eyes. I couldn’t swallow or speak—Columbine still fresh in my mind—thinking how she was only five years old and that she knew about school shooters. Stay calm I said to myself—hard to believe that this tiny, spirited bundle of enthusiasm, buckling her car seat, had learned…

I boarded the plane in Denver, already delayed due to heavy snow on the runways. De-icing the plane was next. Green fluid poured down my window. I looked at my watch. Would I make it to Chicago in time to catch my connection to Newark, and another connection to Rhode Island?

Want to go to Prohibition-era Montana? The Pacific Northwest? Alaska? New Zealand? Modern-day Los Angeles? WWII London? This book will take you on an unforgettable and exhilarating flight you will cherish.

Even though I love all Colorado has to offer in autumn, there is no ocean here. This is the best time to travel to the sea. After being boosted and wearing n95 masks, we flew to the East Coast. We loved our walks with the sanderlings and sea gulls, waves rolling up on beaches in Maine and South Carolina.

My body is a stranger.
But I am determined to make it do the clamshells,
Mini-squats, glute bridges, plantar flexions, and leg raises,
So, I still can bicycle and hike in my favorite forests
And meadows filled with the perfume of wild roses,
The trill of hummingbirds, and the cool breeze on my skin.

Have you ever had a soul mate? We usually think of soul mates as people who are in romantic relationships, but there are other kinds of soul mates. Could they be sisters? Uncles? Children? Let me know if you have had similar soul mates after you read the poems about my three soul mates.

Did you ever see something so exquisite that tears welled in your eyes? If not, go to Crested Butte, Colorado during the summer, preferably in early July. The immensity of meadows filled with enormous numbers and varieties of wildflowers took my breath away.

How is it possible for the pandemic to have a silver lining? In 2020 all of us stayed home hunting for the best streaming series, searching for a tasty new recipe, walking our dogs endlessly around the neighborhood, ordering boxes and boxes and more boxes of stuff from Amazon, and reading our days away.

She holds the syringe above my right arm.Pink liquid glistens in the vial.“Ready?” Her quiet voice is calm.Her fingers grip a bit of my skin and muscle.“Yes,” I barely whisper, a lump in my throat,Also wanting to scream, cry, do a cartwheel. “Yes!” “Yes!”

Soon-- not having to live in fear!

What did you read in 2020? Reading was one of the ways I escaped my unpredictable world. I was looking for distraction, a way to shake off thoughts of COVID-19, the news, and the hope to find some joy. For me, the most meaningful book for 2020 was: What Keeps Me Standing Letters from Black Grandmothers on Peace, Hope, and Inspiration by Dennis Kimbro.

Taylor, our grandson, is a high school junior with a passion for ski racing--training for the Vail Ski Team every day, 8:00 AM- 12:00. Then school from noon until five. Even before ski racing ends, baseball practice begins—middle infield, with shortstop his fave. Soccer goalie in the fall—if COVID-19 allows. All the while keeping up stellar grades and National Honor Society responsibilities.

She is the light of our life, a beacon of hope, especially this year. During this holiday season she is a gift to us. The next photos show our granddaughter, Addison, performing as the Sugar Plum Fairy in The Nutcracker Ballet in 2019. This year, 2020, brought sadness for family and friends when the production could not happen because of the virus—but our memories sustain us. She is an extraordinary talent….

She backed into my driveway,

Vaulted out of the car,

And sprinted to my porch.

Eyes open wide in black framed glasses,

Lizard green tank top, arms printed with purple tattoos.

Smokey air shrouds my mountains splendor.

Grays and Torreys peaks veiled, but hikers persevere.

Covid lurks behind hikers’ masks.

Will there be a plan? A vaccine? A million deaths?

I want to flee, to bolt, to travel back in time, or forward?

The weight of making my own decisions hung heavy. Nerves rang: Can I really do this? The course catalogue was overwhelming. I was a hummingbird darting from flower to flower. Which one has the best nectar? I settled into Biology, Physics, World History, Botany, Comparative Anatomy, Advanced Freshman English, and German.

Broiling sun with muggy airFilled our limbs with torporAnd drenched our foreheads with sweat.We held thumbs over the end of the garden hoseAnd sprayed cold water over us until we squealed,But were hot again in minutes.

During the years that followed graduate school I had the opportunity for varied employment: a science and language arts teacher, various part-time writing posts, a full time position with the US Fish and Wildlife Service, and for more than 30 years, coauthor of a biology book for a major publisher. Racial disparity and injustice for minorities and women still existed in the occupations mentioned above.

I am a woman with white privilege. I have the privilege of living my life not conscious of my skin color. I grew up in the 50’s in a small country town in western Massachusetts where there were few people of color. I knew that certain words were demeaning…

In the cafeteria where seniors ate lunch together, Michael, a promising concert violinist with many winning competitions already under his belt, said to the young man beside him, “Don’t you think we should be planning what we should do for the Senior Prank?”

Where is the virus hiding?On my grocery bags? My carrots? My cereal box?Will its tiny hooks take hold in my hair?Under my fingernails? Will I breathe it in?