Month: January 2025

The Wisdom of the Ink

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Aprons,
plastic tablecloth,
printer paper,
black ink,
paper towels,
wet rags,
we were ready to create,
my grandson and I.
After I gave the requisite precautions,
he dripped and dribbled
black ink on white paper
wherever he chose.
Then he tipped the paper—
gently, I cautioned again,
grandma that I am—
angled the paper one way,
then the other.
Black paint eased into flowing lines,
pooled here and there,
crept across the page
as one young boy drifted
into the fascination
of the flow and spread of black rivers
mapping themselves into tiny streams
curving,
turning corners,
intersecting.
To no one but the ink,
he softly said,
“Time to create passages,
connect with others,
and make peace.”
Amen, I thought.
May it be.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Here’s part of my grandson’s ink picture:

Nature of the week:


Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.

Winter’s Brittle Beauty

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I am warm-weather at heart,
loving all things green and growing,
but when bare elms stretch
in latticework across the sky
and pine branches bow to a cold, fresh wind,
when clouds layer softly in shadowed grays,
and dried blooms and crisp leaves stand stiff as straw,
when marigold seed pods dangle on their stalks,
and basil seeds shelter on tiers of miniature pagodas,
when frost dusts shingles,
and smoke rises in lazy curls from a neighbor’s chimney
and the scent of wood smoke drifts through the air,
when a chilly in-breath fills my lungs and clears my head,
then I am grateful for Winter,
for her brittle beauty,
for Nature’s season of rest.
The world seems somehow simpler,
and I am simply grateful.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:


Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.

Around an Unfrozen Pool

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I woke to a world draped in winter white
thicker than a down-filled comforter,
deep enough to swallow my snow boots
up to their necks.
“The fun stuff,” said the weatherman,
perfect for building snow people, snow forts,
and snowballs to launch at them.
It wasn’t our first snow of the season.
The first snow came several weeks ago
in a light layer falling as I drove home.
Sparkles fluttered past the gleam of headlights
as if God were sprinkling glitter over the city
to celebrate Winter.
By the next morning,
snow-glitter veiled roofs and decks,
grass-blades bent, ice-frosted,
brittle petals shivered, frozen.
Robins gathered at my heated birdbath
like office workers around a water cooler.
Feathers fluffed, bellies round as balls,
they chipped and chirped,
dipped their beaks, bobbed up,
eyed each other.
Until a squirrel came to drink.
Then they flew off together,
all but one brave robin who perched on the porch rail,
squinting over his feathered shoulder,
his back to the squirrel.
When at last the squirrel scampered off,
a mockingbird took its place,
then a cedar waxwing found his way,
maybe straying from his flock,
maybe the only one to spy
and wisely fly
to an unfrozen pool.
The squinting robin finally flew,
but probably just to wait in the nearest tree.
Robins share when they have to,
but I think that they think
they own this spot.
And in a world of winter white,
I am content to let them think so.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:


Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2024. All rights reserved.

Playful Day

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Dawn came layered in clouds this morning,
a parfait of light and shade,
pale peach and pale blue
turning lavender as I watched.
Out of the layer of peach,
a glow brightened, bloomed,
sparkled out—
the sun bubbled up,
a happy round lemon.
Those who know,
who foretell such things,
say that this will be our day,
an interplay of cloud and sun,
a mix of light and shade,
until the day tires of play,
leaving a mountainous cloudscape
in the west,
which will flatten, crestfallen
into a field of darkening gray.
The wind will sigh, strong and gusty,
and the playful day
will settle
into an evening
of rain.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:


Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2024. All rights reserved.