This blogging community has again revealed itself as a place where we can go straight to the heart, share ourselves without make-up, designer clothes, or any of the other society wraps that usual tag us before a word comes out…

Once a year, and for the last 15 years, my Dad, my four brothers and a group of cousins called, "The Benevolent Portuguese Brotherhood Touring Company," travel on their Honda 90s, in the scorching valley heat, across the forest, on…

                             Thank you little flowers that are under my feet, giving way without a cry, as I pass-by. Thank you fresh air that fills my lungs restoring me without my constant…

Photo: The shirt off my brother’s back.

Where are my words? Do they stir in some unknown lake, far beyond the landing where I stand? Why do they rest in the murky waters holding their breath, when I long to catch them? What bait would tease them…

On a blistering cold winter day in Italy, this carved marble angel caught my eye and seemed to say: In every corner there is hope! I am hoping for cooler weather soon, or I am going to take up residence…