August
(1) bright light lingers softly on her smiling face after long rains (2) Oysters on the ice, whispering salty secrets— I lick my lips back. (3) Neon on wet stone— a lobster’s wink in the glass, the tide of hunger.
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Nature and Self: A Dialogue —Feeling the Rhythm, Touching the Essence of Life
Wanderers of day, hunters of night—swift, slow, social, solitary—each lives by its own rhythm. Together they form a balanced world, like a symphony where every note is different yet essential.
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Screw Surprise
It began as a simple birthday dinner—four of them, each ordering one dish. One was the “Vegetable Roll”: vibrant greens wrapped in translucent rice paper, delicate enough to admire before eating.
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Mountain Road into Memory
Neither of us had expected it—but some memories don’t need to be sought. They hide in a mountain curve, in a summer afternoon, and quietly return when we least expect.
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The Warmth of a Birthday Morning
It was cool and gray—finally, a break from summer’s usual drama.
The crape myrtles outside were in full bloom, putting on their best show like overachieving guests. -
July
(1) Rattan chairs still wet round table glazed with raindrops— meeting after storm (2) Lotus in full bloom— sisters wander, side by side two shadows on water (3) Music drifts through air— gathered beneath the awning, weekend concert time (4) High in mountain air, a ceiling fan spins gently— cuts the blaze of noon. (5)…
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A Summer Town in the Black Mountains
Near noon, the heat begins to rise. We walk slowly beneath the eaves, keeping to a slender strip of shade to escape the burning sun. Wooden benches stand quietly along the roadside— a resting place thoughtfully placed by the town for travelers. Beside one bench, a tuft of lavender sways gently in the breeze, like an old friend offering a drink with a smile.
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Discover the Hidden Italian Garden at Biltmore Estate
The pond resembles a tranquil stage: lotus leaves overlap, water lilies stretch open, and colorful blossoms bloom quietly. Petal shadows sway, sending ripples across the water, whispering secrets only the fish might understand.
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Coffee Time
This morning, I met my friends at a café in Raleigh. We chose the quiet reading room inside — a cozy corner with warm lights and bookshelves filled with books. Four women sat together, sharing the joy of language, the beauty of culture, and the gentle warmth of each other’s company.
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Spectral Romance
There he is again—bald head, big nose, that same wistful photo she thought she’d seen the last of. She’s only checking the website for updates, but somehow he sneaks in like a pop-up ad with feelings. His profile still insists he misses his late wife dearly… but also claims she’d want him to find “the right woman to live with.”
