The Chattering, Chuckling Pebbles of Findhorn Beach. 8220;, she told us. A day very different to this one, yet equally Scottish in nature. As the evening settles here, the snow flurries thicken.

Cabin shack, dream locator, zendo. Something in the eye? Good shoes and the Chaco Stick wound with white string. Path forward, the cloud- just here. 8220;And Karen, does she abide? On a picnic bench.

The ups and downs of expat family life.

Monday, March 11, 2013. After much thought and my already lack of presence here I have decided to take an official. I am sure I will be back at some point but for now I would like to focus on other avenues of connection as well as put my energy more into creating. So take a look over at my Facebook. To see what I am up to. Ciao for now! Links to this post. Monday, February 25, 2013. Well, what can I say. my little birdies are back.

Brings a chill to her frail bones. My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns. Two buds and a twig. The sign said to come inside. But everything i wanted was directly in front of me. There i stand, reflected.