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I will never forget the sunny Monday morning inside the coffee shop, knowing you had seen me dozens if not hundreds of times reading the new paper. But on this particular morning, your cheerful smiling hello sparked my day of depression its hope when you agreed to hike a local trail with me. I was happy using my new hiking poles to steady my walk, … Continue reading “Angry voice of gratitude.”
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The town of Creighton New Hampshire was to celebrate the 1948 class reunion of the small towns only high school with 43 of the original 97 class members still alive. On Friday morning the weekend of the festivities at the Jenkins diner, in Creighton New Hampshire an elderly man enters shuffling along in search of a place to sit. He stopped at a table occupied by … Continue reading “Table talk.”
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Today men all over America are celebrating Father’s Day spending time with their families, throwing a ball in the yard or enjoying a quiet day they all deserve. My father, taught me by example that every day is “Fathers Day” because my father worked consistently, rarely taking a day off, never taking a vacation, leaving town for special occasions like funerals but always providing for … Continue reading “Fathers Day.”
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Again, as usual, I am seated watching the archaic traditions leaving no assumptions for what is to happen at this ceremony that has been held every year since 1877. I glance around to see the awkward familiar faces and, I imagine many other narcissists have gathered here guiltily pretending to care, making this entire ordeal infectiously annoying. I wish I could disappear, or if I had … Continue reading “Juxtapose, the yearly ceremony.”
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Usually, on the weekends mostly during the morning hours, a hiking trail fills with groups of people flaunting their newly purchased hiking and backpacking gear. These groups move along in packs of ten or more resembling a social bubble with verbal noise drowning out the beauty of songbirds chirping from the trees above. Many within the group will fail to absorb the essence and serenity … Continue reading “Appreciating natural surroundings.”
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Ms, Charlotte Wetzler, was seated on the main stage, looking out upon well over 500-hundred guests who are her former students and the recipients of her 42- years of teaching eight and ninth grade American and World history. Accompanying the stage with Ms. Wetzler are members of her school’s administration, School board members, politicians and the master of ceremonies along with the keynote guest speaker … Continue reading “Vaguely bestowed history.”
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With each swing of the mallet, I pound the spike deeper into the ground. Anger, jealousy, envy, and hate fuels my swings but, I cannot stop pounding the spike more profoundly into the ground until my arm and shoulder begin to ache as tears and sweat streaming along my cheeks. I hear the faint echo of voices rising above my delirious fog of emotions. With … Continue reading “Mallet.”
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Every day since forever, I have seen you, and we are identical twins. I look into your eyes, and I see the mirror image of me. I have seen pictures of you, and you look like me. Your cheekbones, lips, eyebrows, and chin are all like mine. We are identical twins? As far back as I can remember, I dreamed of a brother or sister. … Continue reading “Identical.”
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Casandra entered the room, and I could not make eye contact, She walks past my table, and I look down at my paper, I sensed a connection, but I’m too shy to speak. Brian will not notice me when I walk into the classroom. He will not acknowledge me with eye contact. I walk past him, and I sense a connection. Twenty-seven years later inside … Continue reading “Blushed.”
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I can remember as far back as a kindergartener, hearing my mother, father, siblings, friends, and teachers, telling me, or writing in the margins of a report card, “Slow Down.” On many occasions throughout my life, I was told I need to develop and hopefully discover some patience. “Slow down,” is the repetitive word I knew more than anything throughout my life. After I retired, … Continue reading “The wisdom of patience.”
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As the days of March wind down and I continue editing, re-editing and repeating the process of my short stories. The recent cold weather in Southwest Florida provoked a wrinkle in my ability to sit outside and write. So, I traded in my shorts, tank top, and flip-flops for my long pants and long sleeve shirt. The feel of the cloth around my arms and … Continue reading “Time to return to the trails.”
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Suddenly there is no sound of the trail, but I feel and hear my heart pounding after my climb to summit the small peak of 2500 feet. My breathing slows matching the calmness surrounding me, and I pause to absorb the silence. I have replaced my forty hour work week noises of voices, car horns honking, rolling tire along the asphalt streets with the un-nerving … Continue reading “Suddenly there is no sound.”
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At the beach, or in the park, the morning blend of sites and sounds coupled with the warm sunrise temperatures to sooth the skin adds to the beauty of the day ahead,. Sparrows, warblers, and finches chirp with enthusiasm along with the morning doves cooing to one another adding to the softness of the morning as I watch them fly around upon soft, warm breezes. The morning walkers, … Continue reading Astral Congregation
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Well, it has come around again the commercially celebrated Valentines Day of love. It is the erotic, exotic, enticing, inspirational day for the expression and confession of love for one or more particular persons or ourselves. I write this blog post watching the sunrise from Smathers Beach in Key West Florida on this yearly holiday of love for which many will reveal their emotions in … Continue reading “Valentines Day of love”
The twins and Johnathan are in the rear seat of the car with their father at the wheel, as they travel along their driveway from their home to the main road. Johnathan is pitifully staring out the window wondering where they are going when his mother turns around in her front passenger seat to tell Johnathan about this particular task. You will babysit the twins … Continue reading “Wedding anniversaries and a birthday: part #3” (Final)
At 4:45 pm, their father, Jefferson Wheeler, was a third-generation farmer, who stood six-foot, seven-inches tall, with muscular arms, and a matching barrel chest. He was a hardworking, strict disciplinarian, and his deep baritone bass voice commanded the attention of everyone when he spoke. When he drove his tractor into the barn, he saw the twins digging a hole in the ground behind Johnathan’s tractor. … Continue reading “Wedding anniversaries and a birthday: part #2”
It was 4:30 pm on a western Nebraska farm, in the summer of 1969 with the humid July winds blowing as usual while the Wheeler twins Jason and Jacob who were age six and digging a hole in the backyard of their parent’s farm. Their 15-year old brother Johnathan was driving one of the families tractors into the barn next to their home. As usual, … Continue reading “Wedding anniversaries and a birthday: part #1.”
I was scared almost out of my seat when Sister Abigale screamed at the top of her lungs forcing all of the fifth-grade students to stared forward, but it was apparent the class prankster, Abraham Jefferson had been up to no good as he snickered and laughed aloud. Her anger was expected, as her voice trilled in horror, with the inscrutable words emitting from her mouth, … Continue reading “Inscrutable trill silhouetted in front of me.”
I was born and raised in the Adirondacks in Upstate New York, and the first time I saw photos of a beach, I dreamed of living on an island. As a teenager and college student, I was a formidable long distance runner with the agility of a Gazel, but my burning desire to live on an Island continued to consume my dreams and fire my … Continue reading “I’m candid, fairly agile living on island time.”
I am a part of what some people call the greatest generation. When I consider how my parents who lived with nothing close to the conveniences I enjoyed as a child, progressing through my teenage years into becoming an adult, I’m proud to have survived based on today’s standards. I survive childhood without car seats, seat belts, helmets for baseball, football or an athletic cup … Continue reading “The next dominant generation.”
For twenty years’ or more, the theater’s dancers have taken a ten-minute break every hour during any rehearsal no matter how long they rehearsed. Three months into the theater season a pre-law student dancer read the complete contract and discovered a nutritious meal is supposed to be served during any rehearsals over four hours. When the discrepancy was acknowledged by the companies president and director, … Continue reading “Loophole.”
When a child is born, they are an unwritten computer program learning from parents teachers and society.
M. J. Leake Continue reading “Winsome Characters.”
Mel and Susan Hubbard a married couple were sitting on a park bench after walking three miles along the beach which they do every other day when Susan tells Mel, Happy anniversary. Mel reaches into his jacket pocket and hands Susan a wedding anniversary card. As Susan reads the card, Mel says aloud. One hundred years ago living past 50 was considered an ancient age, … Continue reading “Viable at any age.”
Three months ago Jill and I decided to take a break with a tropical island weekend getaway. On our last evening, I dressed adorned in my best island attire with a collared asher blue shirt, with dark blue buttons, a pair of tan Bermuda shorts, and brown leather open-toed sandals. Jill was dressed in a multi-colored floral sundress with white sandals and a white orchid … Continue reading “Atmospheric; Short story”
Hiking in the great northwest of the US brings you into contact with many types of people. My first encounter with mushroom hunters began with the honk of a horn from a passenger van when I slowed on the roadway searching for a turn to a hiking trailhead near Mount Hood National Forest. I pulled over to let the two passenger vans pass, and I followed … Continue reading “Droolling mushroom hunters.”
Writings from me to you
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the world's not a stage, it's a fucking adventure
Adding stamps to my passport, one adventure at a time.
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Traveler & photographer with a passion for everything
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