River of Stones

This is part of a project for River of Stones .

This seems to be a good step for me after my personal project in December.  The River of Stones project asks participants to describe one thing that they observed for each day of the month of January. It will require me to be brief.  I need to practice that. I also need to practice looking for and describing things around me. So-on I go.

I’m interested in seeing what the month will bring. As soon as I have the first one ready, I will add it below, then each day for the month.  Perhaps it would be easier to have started the project for February, with its’ shorter timeframe.  I can do another 31 days, though!

January 1, 2011:

little dog at the window barking furiously and jumping at the glass

three deer in the yard stop. freeze. tilt ears toward the house, then amble slowly on their way

January 2, 2011

piles of linens,  stacks of good china,  forgotten socks,  scraps of giftwrap, pine needles on the carpet.

guests gone.  holiday done.

January 3, 2011:

After a week’s vacation, work. Emails, voicemails, snail mails. I am amazed at how many people needed to contact me in a week. I am not yet ready for them.

January 4, 2011:

Sunrise Sun Dog

Golden ball pulled above the horizon by a rope of glowing orange light, cradled by icy rainbow fingers

January 5, 2011:

The hallways of the courthouse are lined with those too tired to be impatient

January 6, 2011:

Just the four of us, the years fall off as food is served; laughter rises as the evening passes; we are still 18 in our hearts

January 7, 2011:

shyness, then hugs and kisses to make up for a week apart, two little girls bring light to grandparents’ lives

January 8, 2011:

She smiles when she sees me, surprised.  Sitting in the wheelchair, her hair is disheveled, she tries to pat it in place. As I brush out her hair, childhood memories of her fixing my hair sting at my eyes.

January 9, 2011:

We awoke this morning to see every branch, tree and shrub coated with a thin layer of white ice crystals, as though  the warm moon’s breath had frozen against the cold windowpane of the earth.

January 10, 2011:

Snow upon snow; white upon white. Icy frosting coating a vanilla  ice cream cake, the sky continues to shake white sprinkles over it all. Enough!

January 11, 2011:

Is “one day” the same as the “day of ones”?

January 12, 2011:

The city is covered in snow, with piles of white obliterating curbs and sidewalks. In the middle of the streets, the snow has turned soft and brown with sand and salt, like a trail of soft chocolate ice cream poured across a clean white tablecloth.

January 13, 2011:

The parking lot is filled with cars, standing shoulder to shoulder, their noses pointed away from the wind.  They are covered in white, obliterating all but their general shapes , unidentifiable to their owners. Across the lot, the sound of plastic scratching ice from glass is muffled by the coating of new snow,  the air punctuated by echoing voices of drivers exclaiming their surprise as they exit the building.

January 14, 2011:

Stop. Start. Three hours. Thirty miles. A double strand of bright red shining pearls strung ahead of me, following the freeway contours.

January 15, 2011:

Tears flow uncontrollably, leaving behind a swollen red, blotchy face. Feelings that have been waiting to explode are finally released by a sad movie.

January 16, 2011:

We take turns shuffling (she shuffles the deck more slowly than she used to), then deal out the cards-seven to each of us. We make our matches and runs,  points added. She wins; I lose. It’s wonderful.

January 17, 2011:

The lampposts shine spotlights along the sides of the street; snapping to the beat of the wind, the holiday flags shadow dance on the dark pavement.

January 18. 2011:

Every blue crayon of the box-indigo, turquoise, teal blue, sky blue- smeared against the sky until the wax is shiny, light illuminating it from behind; the moon a full slice of lemon-orange balanced on the top of the buildings.

January 19, 2011:

Her fingers are long and slim, pink polish clinging to the nails. The veins protrude, trails of purple and blue from wrist to fingertips,  her palms soft and shiny. No longer able to lift a cup of tea, write a letter, or stitch another needlepoint project, these hands rest.

January 20, 2011:

Four legs, four arms, flailing. Blond hair that tickles my nose. Giggles, lots of giggles. Like small puppies, my granddaughters welcome me to their home.

January 21, 2011:

Long brown hair hanging in his eyes, a diamond stud in his lower lip. He mumbles answers to questions, his mother behind him, urges him on, “Tell the truth”. Trial averted.

January 22, 2011:

“Please remove your boots or shoes and leave them on the newspaper before entering. Have a lovely day.” Stockinged footed for an interview while overlooking the city. Lovely.

January 23, 2011:

The ads run before the movie, over and over. “We are dedicated to improving the sight of you and your family.”  We do look quite awful today, even in the dark.

January 24, 2011:

Cleaned desk.  It didn’t help.

January 25, 2011:

A life in turmoil, she waits for a judge to approve giving up her parental rights. Hallway chatter overheard, discussion of  children’s college applications. Tears overflow.

January 26, 2011:

heavy air, presses down

aching chest struggles to fill

arms move slowly, each step a struggle against gravity

tears float on the rim of each eye

another day, endured

January 27, 2011:

warm sunshine on the back

of snowbanks


puddles into the street


January 28, 2011:

White swans fly low to the ground, black beaks piercing the sky before them, clearing the way ahead.

January 29,2011:

Upside down bird eyes suet, pries best treat, flies his prize to nearby tree.

January 30, 2011:

Photos tell the hard truth; my mirror has been reluctant to be honest.

January 31, 2011:

Thirty one times; brevity, done.



  1. Glad you can join us! Sorry I can’t help with the badge… don’t know how to use WordPress – hope you find someone who can. Warmest, Fiona

  2. You’re doing great!

    • Thanks-I’m kind of enjoying it so far. How about you?

  3. I’m not certain if I have it right but it is setting me a-thinkin’ about how I express myself. And I suppose that’s a good thing.

  4. I love this idea!! I will see if I can find out how to join.

    • yes, do-I think you will be very good at this.

      • 🙂

  5. Love these: Jan 5 and Jan 8 are especially lovely, so poignant.

    • Thanks-this has been fun.

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