Small bird eating seeds and leaves

old school library style

another canyon sunrise

sunrise this morning

Living room

butterfly wing on the last day of summer

Jack

Dogs that I am friends with!

sunset cliffs summer walk

my street, my cat

war protest downtown san diego

sharing a meal

in the big wide desert, you can still return a book . . .

Imperial Beach

Ocean Beach Sunset

Scout Forest

this is the last photograph taken of Scout . . . i'm glad that she is playing with a toy in this picture. Scout was my constant companion for 16 years. rest in peace you beautiful, loyal friend. Scout Forest ~ October 18, 1994 - November 1, 2010

Cold Solace

by Anna Belle Kaufman

When my mother died,
one of her honey cakes remained in the freezer.
I couldn’t bear to see it vanish,
so it waited, pardoned,
in its ice cave behind the metal trays
for two more years.

On my forty-first birthday
I chipped it out,
a rectangular resurrection,
hefted the dead weight in my palm.

Before it thawed,
I sawed, with serrated knife,
the thinnest of slices —
Jewish Eucharist.

The amber squares
with their translucent panes of walnuts
tasted — even toasted — of freezer,
of frost,
a raisined delicacy delivered up
from a deli in the underworld.

I yearned to recall life, not death —
the still body in her pink nightgown on the bed,
how I lay in the shallow cradle of the scattered sheets
after they took it away,
inhaling her scent one last time.

I close my eyes, savor a wafer of
sacred cake on my tongue and
try to taste my mother, to discern
the message she baked in these loaves
when she was too ill to eat them:

I love you.
It will end.
Leave something of sweetness
and substance
in the mouth of the world.

originally published in The Sun magazine

buzzing around and then it's a nose dive, straight to the honey-center

fresh from the garden, fresh from the shell

sunflower high

bookshelf number one

scout on the couch

my neighborhood is a haven for parrots!