As the soft rains came down this past Thursday morning, memories flooded as I remembered a place that was part of my life: my former home when I also had adjacent 23 acres that included a 10-acre rocky, wooded canyon.

In 2006, I had written lines describing its magical beauty. Here are they are from CAMPFIRE CANYON: Loved ones snuggle, creating a peaceful calm and beauty of old twisted oaks, hickories, and elms. We sit a little from the canyon edge, peering down to see huge boulders that have fallen from bolts of lightening or slight earthquakes.

As well as millions of dead leaves scattering down the canyon bank, to the floor, filling the stream bed full, so watery presence is barely noticeable.

We talk of this and that as the sun slowly descends, sending magical rays through the many, many limbs so full of more tresses that were cast down the banks this fall.

Sometimes, we like to search for interesting shaped or colored rocks to pocket and use later for… whatever. Sometimes, we just sit and enjoy the surrounding vibrant colors caressing our little cleared spot where campfire crackles, conversation lingers, and hugs are given as night steals in.

And then, there are the times I noticed the line of maples north of the house shedding their single-bladed helicopter-like seedlings. I share these lines: WHIRLING AWAY ON SINGLE-BLADED HELICOPTERS Summer sylvan landscape maples busy launching their swirling helicopter- like seedlings….Crows in the distance….Grasses busy with minuscule critters hardly visible, washed by sun’s rays high in the sky, dominating the presence of every inch of earth.

I sit on the patio swing watching the nest hidden slightly in the eaves.

Swallows filled—with fledglings, daring to take that first leap. I’m hoping for their success since Honey, the calico feline wishes otherwise… My copy of Edna St. Vincent Millay waits for perusal, but here, this live theater begs for my attention greater. Millay versed her appreciation of such—I try. I try, also.

The canyon visits and the views from my back patio bring memories I experienced on that special land I enjoyed for over 50 years. I thank God for allowing me to live there. I miss the peace and quiet. I miss seeing deer, and multiple species of birds. I miss the scurrying squirrels. I miss walks among the oaks, elm, catalpa, maples, and hickories. These all have been replaced by the sounds of neighbors and occasional nearby traffic. However, my private backyard offers me space for flowers and small vegetable gardens.

And comfortable outdoor furniture near a huge catalpa tree where squirrels play and birds build nests. God continues to bless me, no matter where I live.

Have a good week and share your blessings.