My glass leads me
on a journey of creative meditation.
Nestled in the hardwoods of Virginia,
my studio doors open to welcome each season.
The rhythms of nature have become my rhythms.
Deer feast on my plants; birds are my constant companions.
Redwing hawks from their guardian nest
keep a watchful eye and bless my endeavors.
The creek below this adopted land is a place
of solace and protection.
Deer bed down
while spirit children leap stones in the cool wetness.
Dogue Indians lived and hunted here;
Lines of Confederate and Union soldiers ebbed and flowed;
Mammoth hunters stalked prey 11,000 years ago.
These stones and trees
have been witness.
The ground is hallowed by those souls
Who have lived on it
and loved on it
and been nurtured by it.
Their presence welcomes me.
Their spirit lives in me
Manifest in my creations.
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