"My great-aunt Alice, Miss Rumphius, is very old now. Her hair is very white. Every year there are more and more lupines. Now they call her the Lupine Lady. Sometimes my friends stand with me outside her gate, curious to see the old, old lady who planted the fields of lupines. When she invites us in, they come slowly. They think she is the oldest woman in the world. Often she tells us stories of faraway places.
"When I grow up," I tell her, "I too will go to faraway places and come home to live by the sea."
"That is all very well, little Alice," says my aunt, "but there is a third thing you must do."
"What is that?" I ask.
"You must do something to make the world more beautiful."
"All right," I say.
But I do no know yet what that will be.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

Will you come?


There is a place where black-top ends
Where hills can roll and clouds descend.
There is a place where sounds relax
Where warmth is found and laughter passed.
There is a place to hide from wind
Where friends arrive and smiles begin.
There is a place where time can wade
Where fear can melt and daylight fade.
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