Cherie Shaw

It happens at the end of every day. She hears him before I do, stands at the door, and stares with fixed concentration. By the time I hear his footsteps, her body shutters with anticipation. It’s as if every day is Christmas and he is Santa. He enters with a big hello and a handsome smile. We hug, we kiss, and we make room for her, our (coming-undone-with-love-for-her-man) pup, our Willow. Her front feet jump up onto him, body wagging, and then she leans. Every inch of her being releases and every ounce of her weight presses into his chest. It’s as if she was carrying the whole weight of this big world while he was away. As she surrenders to his

Some of life’s storms come and go with little impact on our daily lives and hardly disrupt our normal routines. Some storms of life are just a bother, leaving no rubble in their passing. But others rush in, demand our attention, and throw us around like a forgotten lawn chair during a fierce hurricane. These monster storms pass, too. And as they do, we may sit stunned at just how much has toppled, just how much has come undone, just how easily our strength blew away in the wind. Do I have enough grit to weather the storm? The wind is blowing now. I see leaves clinging with full resolve to their branch. They hold on trying to beat the odds, trying

I’ve watched it many times. Always off the east coast, always over the Atlantic. The arrival of the orange orb announced by its preceding yellow light. The light that dances off the waves, illuminates all that sleeps, heralds the day, embraces me. The horizon that serves as a stage for the unfolding of a beautiful day sits constant and steady. It’s the place my eyes cannot see past, the line that defines my space. It holds my gaze and allows thoughts to wander, births dreams. It speaks security and possibility all at once in that place where sky and water touch. The earth was never flat, ever. Still, once those living on it believed it was. They saw a horizon just as