no matter where we roam

the desert outside of santa fe, new mexico in autumn

standing on a hill with friend at sundown

watching the Sangre de Cristo Mountains (which means 'the blood of Christ')  change to the color of blood in the setting sun

the columbia river gorge in summer

the wind blowing us hard as we watch the wind surfers glide and fly over the raging river

copenhagen, denmark in winter

the smell of the street vendors incredibly delectable sausage along the 'walk street'

st.claude, france in spring

my wife and i walking the narrow streets looking for a cafe to sit, drink coffee and try the local fare

kent, england in summer

riding the train from london and talking with strangers about accents and the delta blues

istanbul in early spring

walking at 4:45 in the morning in front of the blue mosque, waiting to hear the haunting call to prayer

vancouver, bc in november

sitting in the studio listening to roy compose the strings for one of the songs

oxford ms in winter

teaching a young horse he can trust me

 

this morning as i was riding my bike i heard the sound of geese making their way north

i skidded to a stop and watched them

they looked solid white, like angels, reflecting in the morning sun

they flew in their well known V shape

there is mercy, order, and grace all around us, and no matter where we roam

we are always being pursued.

 

wkm