untangling the web

poetry about and photography of everyday happenings and sights


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Choosing a Path

What path do you choose today?

Will your actions matter?

Will you choose to immerse

yourself in the news or

do some small act of

kindness? Will you choose

to spend time hating

those in power or

feeling the love of family

and friends? Will you

choose to appreciate

the white dogwoods in

the woods, the blackberry

bushes, and the copper

ajuga blooms, or will you 

notice the potholes in the road

and the unpainted fences?

Each day, the path we choose

matters, each and every action,

small or large, matters.

Inspired by Carrie Newcomer’s post Clearing a Path.


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North Carolina Museum of Art

Husband in front,

daughter in middle,

I behind as we walk.

Two dogs stopping

to sniff here and there.

Pines and fir trees

keep watch, lining

the path like sentinels.

Outside noise softened

by pine needles

on the ground.

Pollen everywhere.

A cherry tree

gently drops its

petals like snow

drifting down.

Redbuds and dogwoods

in their Easter finery,

purple clover popping

in the green grass.

Swings that make 

music as we pump, 

taking us back 

to the forgotten

joys of childhood.


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A March Afternoon

Two octogenarians, on a whim,

decided to cut back two hydrangeas,

he with loppers, she with clippers,

on a sunny day hinting of spring.

Ended up cutting back four hydrangeas,

a crepe myrtle without crepe “murder,”

an assortment of ferns and coral bells.

He stood on a chair but did not fall

and she reveled in crocuses moved

last year, blooming hellebores, and 

budding Carolina jasmine climbing

the pergola. Afterwards there were 

aches and pains, but souls were fed

by new life pushing through the dirt.


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Surviving Chaos

On this February day when

chaos seems to be the norm,

I stepped out onto my deck

and was caught unaware by 

yellow and purple crocuses 

blooming in the raised wooden 

box. And then, another gift.

Daffodil shoots by the mailbox.

“To expect the unexpected

shows a thoroughly modern

intellect,” so said Oscar Wilde.

I say “Look for and embrace 

surprise if you want to keep

your sanity in this crazy world.


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January 6

Some say it never happened

or that it was a peaceful

event led by patriots or

that it is right to remove

all charges. If they watched

live coverage of that day,

how can they possibly 

believe all the lies? An 

alternate reality in which 

the villains are now heroes 

and the heroes villains

circulates among those

who refuse to see the truth. 

Brave heroes who dared

to investigate that day

are now maligned by

our next president who

refused to be part of 

our country’s peaceful

transition of power.

We will soon witness the 

dignity with which our 

current president passes

the power to him. May

he use that power wisely

and fairly. A worried

world will be watching

and we must all be vigilant

and peacefully protest

what we think is illegal,

immoral, or inhumane.

Compassion and love will

win over fear and hate.


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Such Abundance

The grass crunches on

this cold winter morning

and frost twinkles on 

every blade. The sun 

reflects off a thin layer 

of ice on the pond and

two crows in cacophony

at the top of a tree 

discuss the morning news.

Shell-like white fungi 

decorates a fallen branch,

soft moss covers the roots 

of a tree, and fiddlehead fern 

pokes through brown leaves.

Suddenly there is a flash

of red as a pileated 

woodpecker darts from 

one tree to another.

Tell me, how can one’s

heart not lift with this

lushness? Tell me, what

will you do to save this

for those not yet born?


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Everything is Welcome

A tiny pink purse

and a pink hairbrush

in her hands, the 

petite girl looked

up at me, the

greeter, who must

have looked official

with my nametag,

and very seriously

asked “Are

hairbrushes

allowed?” My

answer was yes

although her 

mother may have

wished I said no!

But we know everyone

is welcome, whoever

they are and wherever

they are in their faith

journey, so why not a little

girl’s favorite hairbrush?


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Sacred Moment

Sometimes we startle the

heron as she stands at the

end of the pond, and she

spreads her mighty wings

and flies away, afraid of

our company. Today I was

not present, not seeing,

but worrying about so

many things. And then,

from a hill above the

water, I saw her framed

between two bare trees,

tall, regal, motionless.

With no camera to record

the perfect photo, I was

disappointed …. but then

again, perhaps that one

sacred moment was only for

the heron, my dog, and me.

.