monarchs © 2012 Brooke Stevens My kids love without conditions. They care about people and animals. Water, dirt and sand, rocks and trees. They care about many things. They have not yet been spoiled by their surroundings. They want to help others. Pick up trash. Recycle. Give. Not only to those less fortunate but to everyone. … More running out of time
I don’t want to let things roll off my back. I want to react. To feel, to fight, to see, and believe. I don’t want to be in the background waiting my turn. I don’t want to stand by and listen as the ignorant and selfish try to pull us down and backward. I want … More something unsavory
8/18/18—For my kids. You gotta look up. Look forward. At the sky. If you stare too much at the ground beneath your feet, you miss out. On smiling strangers. Monarchs bouncing through the air. Clouds that look like animals. Maybe something from last night’s dream. It’s easy to miss out on opportunity, to put your … More Kids, look up.
We have these great beautiful minds and souls to explore and a whole life to do it. And yet, we shy away or flat out refuse opportunities to open up and learn. We subscribe to someone else’s beliefs. We fulfill expectations that aren’t our own. We pull away, opt for comfort and safety, and slowly … More Exploration
This morning is a good one. It’s going to be another beautiful summer day in Alpena, Michigan. Clear sky, probably high 70s. Little to no wind. Except for cars passing down 2nd Avenue every so often and crows cawing and heckling a few blocks over, all is quiet in the neighborhood. Julian gassed up with … More church doughnuts
(smiling robin art by Brooke Stevens) Left my family for a bit—probably just a day. Drive from Alpena, Michigan to Columbus, OH for a meeting. Along the way, a big mud turtle is saved as it scrapes across M33. It isn’t thankful at all as it is placed in the swampy ditch. Just sits there … More away from home
He’s lost it a little. That something that pushed and pushed and pushed him. It was light. But there was deep darkness too. Days did not end or begin. They only moved seamlessly one into another. And now that he is full and filling out—heavier, slower, more patient with the world—he has so much of … More and tonight, there is this