Musing About

Sunday, and the sky cracks and shudders with yet another storm.  The oaks shake their leaves like wet dogs  fresh from sea.  A drifting line of smoke twisted with the scent of barbecue proves the persistence of the German against any force seeking to alter the schedule  of days and tasks.

I love a good storm. It stirs up the soul, rattles loose the mental skeletons and assures us, we are part and parcel of this planet.
My dictionary, permanent companion, lies vacantly beside me. Even as I write, leaving a trail of black letters drifting across the page, my attention drifts, lost in the storm.

I am remembering friends, scattered like stars, across the planet.  India, Australia, US, Dubai, Cyprus, Ireland, Iran, Switzerland et al,  so many places to have called home. Home is where the heart is so they say. Where is my Heart?  In a place, time, or dream.... I have left it in the care of my friends- where I know it is safe from all storms, you are all my Home..