28 July 2018
28 July 2018
Contact Jessica at PinnipedPerson@aol.com
a full-length, 115-page volume
75 poems divided into a 3 sections:
Part 1 – “Being Handicapped”
Part 2 – “Green Sentinels”
Part 3 – “Other Voices”
A: Storytelling influences every aspect of my life. I’m not sure why I gravitated to poetry instead of another type of literature, but I have always loved language and playing with words. When I was eight years old, I told my grandfather that I would dedicate my first book to him–and I kept my promise.
The poems in Defense Mechanisms were written over a nine month period; it took another four years of effort before the book was finally accepted by a publisher in 2016. My second poetry collection, Phoenix, will be released by ‘WordTech Publications’ CW Books in March 2019.
The opening poem of Defense Mechanisms, “The Mermaid,” is by far the most personal; I call it an allegorical autobiography.
The mermaid wears a mask. Tubes drift from
her nostrils, linking her to an oxygen machine.
She relies asthmatically on artificial air, fluid
dripping wetly into her nasal passages. The air
she breathes is blue and cool; she cannot adjust
to the smog ashore. They have performed every
test, gluing wires to her chest, her tail, her skull.
They have EKG’d her cold-blooded heartbeat, MRI’d
and scanned, her silhouette glowing with radiation.
Surgeons in white deftly wield gleaming scalpels.
They have stitched her gills shut, and scraped the
barnacles from her shoulder blades. Round, puckered
scars remain, in the spot where earlier that morning,
an angel had her wings removed. You have to stare
to see the scars hidden beneath her Technicolor hair,
the ones from when they drained her brain, swollen
with seawater. They will fade eventually, to the color
of a crab carapace, abandoned and bleached by the sun.
The orthopedist traces her bone scan with his finger
as he talks: her knees are twisted, kissing instead
of facing forward. Her joints push and tug toward
one another in a scissors gait. Removed from the
succoring ocean, her skin is dull and roughened,
her sloughing scales losing their gleam. They plan
to surgically remove her tail and outfit her with
prosthetic legs, carving away her aqueous identity.
Out of water, she cannot walk, cannot stand.
Dragging along the dun-colored corridor, she
is floppy, uncoordinated, her tail hanging limply
from the wheelchair seat. Draped in the shapeless
hospital gown, her previously tangled hair now
shorn, she cannot make them understand that
her body was not made for life on land. They fill
her with electricity, with distilled stars. The names
of the pills are elaborate, like the Latin names of
seashells: Thorazine, Lithium, Stelazine, Sertraline.
She feels heavy, leaden, like she is floating. It
is not a kind sensation. She is unwilling to be
swept out to their psychopharmalogical sea.
She wants to go home. “You do not come from
the sea,” the psychiatrists say. They attempt
to hypnotize the truth out of her, to smear it
from her mind, the way the sea smooths away
words scratched into damp sand. “Delusional,”
they say. “Psychotic features represented by
hallucinations. She believes she is a mermaid,
a mythological creature.” According to their
files, the manila folders of endless prescriptions
and transcripts of talk-therapy sessions, she
does not exist. According to them, she is an
impossibility, a figment. But she must be real,
they have seen her, touched her. How long
will they keep her here? She is drifting like
the seasons. Away from the sea, she cannot
hear its call, only gaze at the topaz eye of the
changeling moon from her glassless window,
straining towards the ebb and flow of the tide.
A: I think the hardest part is getting people interested in what you have to say. Success is about perseverance; stubborn bulldog persistence despite thousands of let-downs, rejections, and wounds to your pride. If you are truly meant to be a writer, or any kind of artist, that is the first thing you must learn. There are plenty of clever, talented people out there who don’t have what it takes, not because their work isn’t good enough, or because they don’t work at it, but because they can’t take the rejection, so they give up. It is never easy, but it is worth it.
When someone appreciates my work because they relate to it, having shared the same experiences, it creates a kinship between reader and writer. I believe that well-chosen words are the greatest agents of change; they provide hope to the suffering and clarity to the misguided. Defense Mechanisms provides both, offering its readers glimpses of meaningful lives and exploring what it means to be fully human.
A: I have cerebral palsy, and the public perception of disability and the many aspects of living with a handicap are topics I frequently explore in my work. Anyone who struggles with mental health issues or physical challenges will be able to relate to my experiences, because the theme of Defense Mechanisms is Hope–the triumph over pain and trauma and the resilience of the human spirit.
I am very used to talking about my issues, and therefore very open about them in my writing. What some people consider depressing, I consider honest, and these topics should not be avoided because of their intensity. My goal is to provide a thought-provoking and inspirational experience for every interested reader, and to help them better understand what it’s like to live with disabilities.
A: I am endlessly fascinated by art, history, and the natural world, and all three deeply influence my writing. I am always inspired by the lives and exploits of artists, like the Beats, the Harlem Renaissance, and the Bloomsbury Group. I love museums, but I don’t have a particular favorite. Since I tend to think in images, a lot of my poetry is inspired by artwork.
In Defense Mechanisms, “Stockings” was inspired by the photographer Dorothea Lange’s 1934 portrait “Mended Stockings”. Another ekphrastic poem, “Transcendence”, was inspired by Walker Evans’ WPA photography. My forthcoming collection Phoenix features numerous odes to artists of every stripe–writers, actors, painters and musicians.
A: When I was little and learning to crawl, my grandmother remarked that my movements resembled a baby seal. It’s a story–and a symbol–that has followed me all my life. My favorite stuffed animal was a seal named Seabert, who became my best friend and good-luck charm in a childhood spent among doctors, hospitals, and therapists.
I have always been drawn to the ocean. For most of my life I intended to become a marine biologist, and although my physical limitations prevented me from realizing that dream, I am an environmentalist, and much of my poetry is inspired by nature–especially the sea.
This is one of my personal favorites in the collection. I can only say to our readers,
“PLEASE BUY JESSICA’S BOOK.” I promise, you will love it!
Through the rain-streaked windows
the Christmas lights are a gleaming
blur. The colors stretch and streak,
lighting the sodden trees with their
festive glow. They resemble flashing
tropical fish swimming in the blind
eye of the windowpane. The water-
darkened trees resemble me, tilted,
twisted, bent, their fallen leaves
stretching like frightened animals.
A row of lightning scars the sky,
flashing like neon and fading in an
instant, a metallic crow’s caw in the
blackness of the storm-darkened sky.
Book Title: Defense Mechanisms: Poems on Life, Loss, and Love
Award-winning author of Defense Mechanisms
Available now on Amazon: www.JessicaGoody.com
Phosphene Publishing: http://www.phosphenepublishing.com/goody-jessica
Lynda McKinney Lambert. Copyright July 21, 2018. All rights reserved.
Presented by Lynda and Miss Opal, her feline writing partner. Lynda and Miss Opal live in rural western Pennsylvania in The Village of Wurtemburg. Miss Opal has a sister-cat named Miss Bessie. The two were rescued from Southern Ohio along with their mother, Miss Effie Pearl, and their 2 brothers, Diamond and Peachy Keen.
Lynda is married to Bob Lambert and the couple have 5 grown children. These days, Bob & Lynda share their home with 2 rescued dogs; Miss Mitchell and Miss Dixie Tulip. In addition to the 2 cats, they also care for any number of feral cats who may drop by for food & shelter eacy day. Lynda is a retired professor of fine arts and humanities, and she is a fiber artist and author. she holds 3 degrees: BFA and MFA in painting; MA in English. Lynda is a retired professor of fine arts and humanities from Geneva College, Beaver Falls, PA. She writes and makes art in her River Road Studio. Lynda lost her sight in 2007 due to Ischemic Optic Neuropathy.
Lynda is the author of 2 published books:
Lynda just completed her 3rd book
Star Signs: New & Selected Poems – 60 poems
AND her FIRST CHAPBOOK
first snow, 16 Poems with a Wintry Theme.
Both new books are now available for publication. Editors, please contact Lynda for the manuscript.
July 12, 2018
Thursday Treasures #5, by Lynda McKinney Lambert
Note: For today’s Thursday Treasure, I went to my other blog, “Walking by Inner Vision,” Read it here!
I was trying to recapture my life, after an unexpected life-altering event.
Today, I’m publishing an article I first published on February 19, 2010. I’ve revised that essay for my readers here at SCAN.
However, the reading I did for my courses was always centered around what I taught in my courses.
I longed for more time to read outside my course materials and requirements.
I thought ,
Someday I will be able to do that, when I retire.
I began working towards that magical future time when I could read to my heart’s content with no goal of ever teaching the material. I wanted to read just for me. I would read to satisfy my inner longings. I would read for myself alone. I would read for the sheer joy of reading.
My book collection was a treasure trove of books gathered & put on shelves in my home library.
The book treasures awaited my day of liberation when I could begin reading them. I could spend my retirement days with a precious book in my hands, and have no concern about time or interruptions. I imagined this new freedom, every day.
I anticipated the time when I no longer had to spend time on the road, traveling to classes, or taking trips for business purposes.
I would not have to organize classes or take students on international study trips. And, no more endless meetings around a table, talking about strategies, evaluations and future plans for student development.
In my envisioned retirement, I would no longer write conference presentations, faculty reports, or attend professional development sessions.
I would merely be reading my accumulation of books from my library shelves. I’d be content.
My retirement collection contained books of poetry, art, and great literature – many of the books are by authors I was not teaching in the classroom.
Some are by my favorite poets, and some are poets I want to read but never had time because of my intense teaching schedule. Of course, I had a collection of hundreds of books from which I created courses. But, my treasured books for retirement were different.
Each book, a treasure, carefully selected and collected.
All of my reading is now through technologies either on my computer or on a special machine provided to Blind and Handicapped people. While I am thankful to be able to read this way, it is certainly not as satisfying as holding a real book in my hands – feeling it’s heft; its unique smell; and the sense of touch from my fingers on the binding or the page edges. And, listening to someone read the book takes away almost all of the quiet and personal imagination that is so much richer. I will never get used to a professional voice reading a book to me. The voices inside my head, in my imagination, have been abducted by those voices on the machines. I hate it!
Despite all of my personal emotions at the drastic changes in how I read, I am still very thankful for books provided as sound recordings by he National Library of Congress. I am able to order a variety of books I would like to read, but the books by contemporary poets are quite few. I still love academic books by academics and in the poetry section they simply are not there! The books from NLS come directly to my house and are sent through the postal service to my mailbox.
Because I love the feel of a physical book, some days, I struggle to read one of my books by using a CCTV (Closed Circuit Television) which is a magnification device. I can only read a very small portion of text at a time, but I am grateful that I still have a small amount of vision so I can actually SEE some text. I still love the feeling of a real book in my hands, even though my ability to read it as I sit on a comfortable sofa in my library is no longer possible. I’d give anything to snuggle with a quilt on a winter’s day with my book in my hands and my mind and imagination taking flights of fancy. There is no replacement for those delights. No machine can do it.
I am thankful for this retirement time away from the bustle and frenzy that was my professional life up until ELEVEN long years ago.
However, the loss of eye sight brought new vision to me and I can see some things I would never have known existed if I had not lost most of my sight. My daily walk is quite different now. But, it is a precious life, nevertheless. I can hear nuances in a voice that tell me exactly what a person is thinking – not what they are saying. I am not distracted by their expressions now. I am far more aware of perceptions than I ever was when I had full sight.
As I edit this essay, my two dogs lay nearby and my 2 cats come into my office to sit in the open window each morning. We greet each day together, and it is a good life. My retirement is satisfying and I have even had the time to write books and poetry. I just completed the work on my 3rd book, a full-length book of poems, (Star Signs: New and Selected Poems) and my first chapbook, first snow, is ready for publication, too.
As I write. my 2 dogs are asleep nearby. Our 2 cats spend a lot of time in my writing office and like to sit in the open window to survey their world.
Good books and contented dogs & cats bring joy to my life.
Copyright July 12, 2018. All rights reserved.
SCAN is the sole property of Lynda McKinney Lambert.
Guest writers may not always reflect the opinions of Lynda Lambert, but this blog is designed to feature authors and artists who have a positive world view.
SCAN is a QUIET PLACE of Inspiration. We love all things ART, NATURE and Literature.
For MORE information on how YOU can be featured on “Saturday is for Sharing,” click on the instructions page at Read it!
July 8, 2018
I am not new to blogging. In fact, I started my blog, SCAN, in November , 2014. I ’d love to tell you how successful I am as a blogger, and how many dedicated “Followers” I have. But I really cannot do that because I have been far from success in my blogging life. I am beginning to figure out why this is the case. Let me explain some things that I’ve been learning for the past 2 ½ months.
I am learning why I have not been successful and how I can take some steps to turn it around.
This is the backbone of a blog. I didn’t have that structure that is necessary to build on.
In November 2014, I had the IDEA to create a blog and call it SCAN.
Why? I don’t know. I just had a feeling – you know, intuition. The name for the blog just came to me one day, and I went to the computer and opened up a WordPress Blog and called it SCAN.
Because I had no REASON and no FOCUS for the blog, I simply wrote random essays and poetry.
If you have no set expectations for writing your blog, you will find that you really never have much success with it. How did I change all of this?
Under Patty L. Fletcher’s guidance, 2 months ago, in MAY,
I realized I need a clear FOCUS on a THEME.
My FIRST JOB was to figure out my FOCUS & my THEMES.
Patty told me to limit my postings to no more than 3 topics for discussion. Well, that was easy for me to do. I chose 3 topics or themes that I have a passion for. Art, Nature, and Literature.
I knew I wanted SCAN to be “A Quiet Place of Inspiration” for my visitors. It is not a place to be contentious or to debate issues or to rant or to promote apolitical agenda. It was not about taking action against anything or anyone.
My blog now announces my intentions as soon as you get to the front page.
SCAN – A Quiet Place of Inspiration: We Love Art, Nature, and Literature.
That is easy, too.
I want to attract readers and creative people who are searching for inspiring articles that lift the spirit and nourish the soul of my readers.
To do this, I wanted to begin a series of articles and interviews by authors and Artists who also feel this way. I intended to present them as real people, in their own voices, telling their personal and professional stories.
Each Saturday morning, I will post a Guest who tells a story about their life, dreams, goals, and creative work in writing or art. I posted my first Guest Author yesterday, July 7, 2018.
The response has been overwhelming. I presented Patty L. Fletcher’s story first because I wanted to pay homage to a teacher who has changed my way of thinking and opened new doors of discovery for me, a retired college Professor. In this case, the teacher (me) became a student. Patty became MY teacher. I trusted her to guide me through unknown territory and I did as she instructed.
At the Christian college where I taught, our mission was to create “Servant Leaders.” We were to model what it means to be a servant leader, in order to help our students to understand our faith and our life mission. I could see Patty as a servant leader of the people she helps in marketing, blogging and promoting. I recognized her spirit of humility in leadership and I simply followed whatever advice she offered me. Why? Because I trusted her and it works!
The statistics that WordPress provides for our blogs tell the truth of what Patty’s assistance has meant to my blog’s visibility.
From January through April, I averaged 60 visitors per month on SCAN.
In May and June, I averaged 229 visitors per month.
Math is not my expertise, but even I know that this is remarkable.
New Followers of SCAN are coming on board nearly every day.
This number of visitors makes me excited to think about what the total for July will be.
Beyond that, I begin to imagine where my blog is going in the next year – or more. And, I feel a surge – Upwards bound!
Note For more information on Patty L. Fletcher: Click Here!
Lynda McKinney Lambert. Copyright July 7, 2018. All rights reserved.
by Lynda and Miss Opal, her feline writing partner. Lynda and Miss Opal live in rural western Pennsylvania in The Village of Wurtemburg. Miss Opal has a sister-cat named Miss Bessie. Lynda is married to Bob Lambert and the couple share their home with 2 rescued dogs; Miss Mitchell and Miss Dixie Tulip. Lynda is a retired professor of fine arts and humanities, and she is a fiber artist and author.
Lynda is the author of 2 published books:
July 6, 2018
As she took me on a tour of her flower beds one afternoon, she grinned with pride when she pointed out her roses. Every flower gardener I have ever known has loved their rose bushes and each one has shown tremendous pride in the beauty of the flowers on a rose bush.
Last August, Patti brought me a birthday bouquet she had created from her flower beds – and the prize flower in the bouquet was a very stunning pink rose! I think no matter how much a gardener loves all the flowers they have blooming, it is the rose bushes that seem to elicit the most pride and happiness to them. Roses are the dazzling queens of the flower bids. They seems to be the proverbial “icing on the cake.”
I am certain of it! As you begin doing some research on the “rose” as an iconic image, you will soon find references to
She is often depicted with a rose in her hand, or surrounded by roses. Roses are used as garlands in art and sculpture and roses are used to encircle the Queen of Heaven. Roses are a halo at times in Christian lore as well as in pre-Christian mythology. Mary’s son, Jesus Christ, is symbolized as a rose. King Solomon described Jesus as “the rose of Sharon.” You can find this particular reference in The Song of Solomon, 2:1. There are many other such references as well.
You may recognize this Christmas song as “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming” or “A Spotless Rose.” This song is a Protestant Christmas Carol and a Catholic Marian hymn that originated in Germany. I remember it from my childhood when we all stood to sing carols together at the small Methodist Church in my village.
Click here SING ALONG with the music: Yes, I want to sing a long!
Below you will read a poem about her visit and something we did together. Sometimes, it is unusual when we think of a child teaching a parent a lesson of some sort. But, here in my poem, a daughter teaches me a lesson in a unique way.
This poem, “When My Daughter Cuts the Roses,” marks the beginning of Advent in our home. The bouquet of flowers on my dining room table today reminds me that now is the Season of Hope. As I listen to the latest news from around the world, it feels like the whole world is longing for hope right now – Oh, I know! It does appear the the entire planet is in deep distress. The EARTH could be laboring for the birth of HOPE. Perhaps there is a longing for hope in the souls of Earth’s people and all of NATURE.
There is great beauty in the symbols of the weekly lighting of the Advent candles. When the FIRST WEEK OF ADVENT comes this year, we can pause to embrace the message of the ROSE and the coming of the LIGHT, who is promised from ancient times.
Ah, yes! As I complete the writing of this essay, I am hearing a tune in my mind.
This Flower, whose fragrance tender with sweetness fills the air,
Dispels with glorious splendor the darkness everywhere;
True man, yet very God, from sin and death He saves us,
And lightens every load.
(Final stanza of “Lo, How a Rose E’er Blooming)
“When my Daughter Cuts the Roses”
My daughter looked
At the bouquet of fresh roses
noticed two of them were drooping.
“Let me show you how to trim the roses
so they stay fresh and strong.” she said.
Her hands held the roses firmly
one-by-one, trimmed off extra leaves
“These will make the water stink,” she said.
She found scissors in the drawer
put the roses in a bowl of tepid water
held each stem under water
sliced them all, diagonally –
“As I cut the rose under the water,
little bubbles of air come to the surface.
Now, when the rose inhales
it will only breathe water into it,
it won’t fill up with air.
The living water inside the stems
gives longer life to each rose.”
She carried the freshened flowers
In the tall glass vase
back to the center of the dining room table
darkest crimson buds, sunny yellow petals,
deep green fern leaves
and a frilly white carnation.
Both new books are now available for publication. Editors, please contact Lynda for the manuscript.
Thank you for visiting with us today.
Miss Opal and Lynda McKinney Lambert
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this blog post is the property of Lynda McKinney Lambert.
Copyright April 29, 2018.
Copyright July 6, 2018. Revised.
Lynda McKinney Lambert. All rights reserved.
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Saturday is Sharing Day #1
If you said, YES, then I have something nice to SHARE with you.
Spirit Fire Review is a magazine of celebration ~
changing the world through love!
Our mission is to show the goodness of God by sharing through the creative and literary arts our experiences of the Holy Spirit’s presence in our lives. We hope you will join us by reading, sharing, and submitting your own experiences and work to Spirit Fire Review” Quote from Spirit Fire Review, April 2018.
Pennsylvania author, Lynda McKinney Lambert.
SCAN is owned by Lynda McKinney Lambert.
View Publications Page for updates on Lynda’s stories and poems.
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Copyright May 27, 2018. Lynda McKinney Lambert. All rights reserved.
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Leave me some comments and let me know what you liked about this post today.
Does one bright and shining moment stand out to you?
I’d love to hear about it – you can leave a message for me at the end of this post.
for the first time this week by Editor, Ron Harton, NatureWriting Literary Magazine.
It is a collage or collection of events, people, and stories from many Spring Break trips to Puerto Rico. I combined these things with my imagination to create a memorable poem.
Read my poem and see a photo of a tropical waterfall by going to this link, on NatureWriting.
You can turn them into a poem or non-fiction essay.
Poetry is a good way to share your life experiences with an audience.
When you look back over this week, can you find some special people, events, travels or opportunities that just happened to pop up on your horizon? Friday is a great day to think about what you experienced this week.
I am thankful for good editors who make it possible for writers to share their work with a wide audience.
Write what comes to your mind today.
Western Pennsylvania author, Lynda McKinney Lambert, writes full-time from her rural home since her retirement from teaching in 2008.
Lynda’s 2 full-length hybrid books:
Concerti: Psalms for the Pilgrimage, 2003, Kota Press.
Walking by Inner Vision: Stories & Poems, 2017 DLD Books.
_Nominated for “Skirt Best of the Net for 2016-2017” for her issay, “Knitting a Life Back Together.” This essay was published in Spirit Fire Review, 2016.
_2018 Proverse (Hong Kong) Poetry Publication Prize for, “Red December,” published in Mingled Voices #2. Available on Amazon.com.
_ “first snow,” her first chapbook, now available for publication opportunities.
_Lynda’s career featured in the new book, Artful Alchemy, editor, Anne Copeland,2017.
_Lynda’s work appears in Indiana Voice Journal; Spirit Fire Review, Magnets & Ladders, Breath & Shadow, Poetry Quarterly, Tana Society of America (Spent Blossoms, Anthology 2016), Plum Tree Tavern, NatureWriting, The Avocet, Plinth, blue Unicorn, Pro Christo, Proteus, No Limits, Kaleidoscope, Wordgathering, Proverse (Hong Kong) Poetry Prize & publication in Mingled Voices 2, Anthology), and more.
Lynda loves a rural lifestyle; walking through a meadow of wild flowers and thistles; gazing at a star-strewn sky; spending solitary winter days with her husband, Bob, their 2 rescued cats and 2 rescued dogs. Lynda is an avid knitter who designs wearable art. She creates award-winning Talismans and art works of encrusted beadwork.
Lynda’s newest work:
_ first snow. This chapbook is ready for publication.
_Star Signs: New & Selected Poems, Full-length book is now ready for publication.
Copyright 2018. Lynda McKinney Lambert. All rights reserved.
Contact Lynda at email@example.com
I begin thinking of the CHANGES this time in the cycle of life can give us. I wrote a blog post on SCAN in April 2015. I looked back at that post from 3 years ago and edited it.
I bought a little pot of yellow tulips recently. They brightened our dining room table and made me feel happy every time I glanced at them. I am not a gardener so I enjoy buying potted plants and floral bouquets throughout the year with the changing seasons. April’s flowers sparkle with brilliance in dazzling yellow daffodils, tulips in a range from vivid red and coral, to soft pink and white. By the end of April, Pennsylvania’s grassy meadows will be covered with blankets of purple-blue violets.
Our rural home was nearly a mile from the school and we walked along a meandering path morning and afternoon. By mid-April we found the delightful blooming violets in the fields.The small, fragrant blooms beckoned my sister and me to come closer!
on those long-ago spring days as we stooped down low, extended our eager hands, and began picking violets to take back home with us. The hot afternoon sun beat down on us as we gathered a fist full of the fragile delights. Once home with our treasured flowers, we put them in little glass jelly jars. Our bouquets remained in a special space on our kitchen windowsill. To this day, many decades later, I still remember the joy of small wildflowers in the house
On mornings like this one, I take leisurely walks with the dogs. I became conscious of the subtle changes today. After a long lasting winter this year, each new spring day seems especially precious as it brings warmth, sunshine, budding bushes and trees.
We dwell primarily on the visual stimulation and distractions. I am legally blind and the entire world is a diffusion of shadowy forms that are distorted, foggy impressions. The positive aspect of sight loss is that I am more aware of a variety of nuances I missed out on when I was fully sighted. I was too focused on looking and learning only through my eyes.
to low sounds of an owl singing its final notes as the sunshine brought strong light to this new day. I thought about the owl and imagined it must be celebrating the end of a fruitful night of hunting for food. It sounded content.
While the owl can settle down and relax to have a nice sleep for the day, I am just beginning my day. I breathe deeply and felt the coldness on my face and hands. My face tingled with the cold breeze and my hands reminded me they are exposed and I have not brought along a pair of gloves to warm them up on this hour-long walk.
Instead, my thoughts move on to the meaning of spring and how each day is bringing changes to the world around me. The cold air is just right for this new day. I reach down occasionally to tell my dog, “Good Girl! Heel. Good Heel. Good Girl!.” She glances up at me, and quickly looks back at the path before her and sniffs the air. When we come to a wooded place, near an abandoned mill, I relax her leash and allow her to enjoy tramping in the winter packed leaves that lay all around the trees. She digs down into them and pushes the soggy leaves aside. She seeks direct passage to the scent that caught her attention. Eventually, I pull her back to heel position and we continue on for the second half of our morning travels. We turn the bend to head back towards home together.
After all, it marks the New Year. Perhaps we might rethink this idea when we find ourselves walking in the early morning in April, with the warming of spring sunshine on our bodies. April truly is the time of new beginnings. April whispers to us, “move on!”
This essay is brought to you by the author, Lynda McKinney Lambert.
View Publications Page for updates on my stories and poems being published.
Lynda’s Walking by Inner Vision.
Lynda’s Author ‘s Page
this blog post is the property of Lynda McKinney Lambert.
Copyright April 29, 2018. Lynda McKinney Lambert. All rights reserved.
Visit me: www.lyndalambert.com
Concerti: Psalms for the Pilgrimage: Poems, Kota Press, 2003
Walking by Inner Vision: Stories & Poems, DLD Books, 2017
First Snow : Chapbook, is ready for publication.
Editors: contact me for information & viewing.
I am a visual artist and author who is visually impaired. Everything I do depends on the use of equipment that is developed for BLIND and VISUALLY IMPAIRED users.
verb (used with object), scanned, scanning.
to glance at or over or read hastily:
to scan a page.
to examine the particulars or points of minutely; scrutinize.
to peer out at or observe repeatedly or sweepingly, as a large expanse;survey.
to analyze (verse) as to its prosodic or metrical structure; read or recite(verse) so as to indicate or test the metrical form.
to read (data) for use by a computer or computerized device, especially usingan optical scanner.
Television. to traverse (a surface) with a beam of light or electrons in order toreproduce or transmit a picture.
Radar. to traverse (a region) with a beam from a radar transmitter.
verb (used without object), scanned, scanning.
to examine the meter of verse.
(of verse) to conform to the rules of meter.
Television. to scan a surface or the like.
an act or instance of scanning; close examination.
a visual examination by means of a television camera, as for the purpose ofmaking visible or relaying pictures from a remote place:
a satellite scan of the dark side of the moon; video scans of property listingsavailable to customers.
a particular image or frame in such video observation or a photograph made from it.
Meet Miss Opal. She is my writing companion and together WE SCAN the BEST BOOKS and INVITE the BEST AUTHORS to TELL THEIR STORIES on our blog, SCAN.
Contact Lynda and Miss Opal at: firstname.lastname@example.org
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