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My sister and I took a trip to the Leighton Centre.

The rustle of dried grasses soothed us as we meandered finding treasures from the season’s change. Tufts of coarse white deer hair shed from winter coats caught on low hanging rose branches, patches of green grass were determined to awaken in the hard soil and the caw of crows from a nearby balsam poplar reminded us of our childhood days in southern Saskatchewan where there was room to wander. Bliss! Caryl has always known where to look for inspiration and I always have followed willingly. More stories to come about that! Hahaha! She is a very significant touchstone for me.

Surrounded by the children from the Montessori School of Calgary, I raised my wounded left arm up in the air and hugged as many as I could with my right. What a love festival! Why does this feel like home? Probably because of the reception—so warm and genuine!

I sat in an empty room awaiting the kindergarten children. A repairman entered and smiled, “Nice, isn’t it? The quiet?” I grinned. Oh it was and then, the energy shifted and I was on a journey again with a special gift of three stones for each child. They had to choose which stone was from a mountain, which one was from a riverbed AND which one was part of a meteorite that landed on earth!!! They loved the boxes where their special objects will be collected. Creation welcomed us back again with a delicate thread of a story to pursue. Children are an imperative touchstone in my world.

The sky has darkened and responsibilities of tomorrow loom. Then I watch the beautiful night unfold. Varying shades of blue watercolour ribbon layers glow as the sun offers one last hint before it sets. The sky has always been my touchstone. I concentrate on a space in between tree branches. I breathe out the chatter in my head and breathe in an idea.

My touchstones have worked their magic. I reach for a pencil. Words flow.


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