- The rich reds that flash against the muted earth tones of the Texas countryside as a cardinal flies.
- My son when he calls for no reason at all. The boy who turned his back has become a man with morals and a strong character that enable him to move from the past and anticipate the new. I’d like to think I had something to do with how tall he stands.
- The overwhelming of the senses that happens when driving a big, powerful, sports car. Windows down. The smell of fuel and oil. Engine and exhausts emitting a symphonic scream. Your surroundings rushing at you so fast that tunnel vision occurs and your peripheral sight degrades to flashes of color. The feel of the tightly wrapped leather steering wheel. Ahhhhh, glorious.
- The reflection of light when it hits the beautiful auburn hair of my daughter just right. A color so luxurious it can’t be described.
- The sight of a flag flying on a farm or ranch house out in the country. Patriots; may God bless you.
- The people, men and women, who can truly mark their names in the column titled “friends”. People who even when I’m wrong, right, stupid, witty, vulgar, sophisticated, lethargic, passionate, despondent, or joyous will stand behind me and proclaim to whoever passes by, “I’ve got this man’s back and he can’t change that.” There aren’t many, but their conviction, dedication, and love humbles me.
- A moonrise in the big Texas sky. Slowing down to drink in the beauty of this sight; how serene.
- The power of just one smile, kiss, look, or word from my grand-daughter. 100% unconditional love; oh to be worthy.
- Dusk in the back meadow of our ranch. That fleeting moment when it isn’t quite day, yet night has not arrived. Quiet descends.
- My wife’s profile when she doesn’t know I’m looking. All my mind keeps saying is, “perfect, perfect, perfect, ……….”
- Horses on the run. Nostrils flared, tails raised high, stretching out, hooves in absolute rhythm. If you’ve seen it there is a punching motion in the first 3 or 4 steps, almost digging in before the explosion of speed comes. The definition of poetry in motion.
- Realizing that God was there even when I swore he wasn’t.
- When she holds me tight, tilts her head up, gazes into my eyes, and very softly tells me she loves me. How can anything be wrong?
- Old books, when did we stop reading? Old furniture, how many have rested themselves in that chair? Old trees, how many boys have climbed to the top trying to impress a young girl? Old houses, how many families have seen triumph and tragedy within these walls? Old people, how many mistakes could have been avoided if we’d only asked? Oh the stories they’d tell if you’d only listen.
- Shauna
- My memories of the Cape. Horsehoe crabs at the edge of the surf, wind, clams, big dunes, independance, and new smells brought from across the sea.
- People who make the investment, who actually get to know me. Still water runs deep? Ever seen how deep the water is at the very base of a huge waterfall?
- Young or old, big or small. Pups; I like them all.
- The angel who came on a summer day to the shore of an Adirondack lake and delivered a victory to a little boy who hadn’t seen many of those in his time. Soon they’ll be marking that day with a half century mark.
- The way her hand fits perfectly in mine.
