The Ipê is a type of tree native to this area of Brazil and when it flowers, there is an explosion of brightly colored blossoms. There are few around my building that pop out at you and then are suddenly blown from the branch to the ground, leaving behind tie-dyed streaks of color on the red soil at their base. It's stunning (although my photography might not be...).
This is an aimless blog that gives voices to small joys, quirky happenstances, everyday occurrences, and occasional pesterings as the author navigates her life paths as an educator, transplanted Wyomingite, traveler, and curiosity seeker.
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What is that noise encircling our home?
Screeching around our home, the cicadas that come with the onset of the rainy season sound like an army of broken hard drives droning in fr...
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David Brooks redefines lifetime stages in a recent opinion piece in the New York Times, The Odyssey Years . He proposes that my parents and ...
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There is just something about being away from home that enables better observation and noticing and thinking. There are endless miles o...
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The weather has cleared enough (or rather the sidewalks have now become clearer of ice and snow obstacles) and I am back to bike commuting. ...
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