An Indian Summer day…a great morning for a walkabout!
a brisk breeze
ripples the quiet stream…
swirling reds and golds
©Al W Gallia 2020

An Indian Summer day…a great morning for a walkabout!
a brisk breeze
ripples the quiet stream…
swirling reds and golds
©Al W Gallia 2020
a young vine
©️Al W Gallia 2020
stretches toward the sun…
does the stump feel it?
Along the road at nearby Lake Martin on a warm spring morning, I see a decaying stump spotlighted in a sun beam. Around this old stump, a new creeper vine spirals upward toward the light, grasping tightly to the dead wood where it can for support. I remember my father’s smile. Life rises from death and will not be denied!
‘9/11”. What American over the age of twenty-something doesn’t remember this horrific day from some personal perspective? This question is on my mind this morning as I watch our Presidents memorial address at the Pentagon. Through time’s haze, I recall the radio news flashes while I was at my desk reviewing a set of construction drawings, and the simultaneous office buzz rising quickly to a crescendo!
at my office…
wife’s urgent phone call
19 years ago©️Al Gallia 2019
I remember the shock, the horror, and the patriotic indignation sweeping through my fellow employees as someone turns on a small black/white portable TV with ‘rabbit ears’ and we see the ‘snowy’ live feed of the first Twin Tower in flame…then another plane appears on the screen.