Under the avocado tree

I knew a little girl once. She used to sit in her pram underneath the shade of the avocado tree, dressed in white from head to toe. As she grew, her cheeks got chubbier and her laugh more contagious and she transformed into a chubby little toddler who could run and play and she became more and more, well, annoying. We were young. Of course I loved her dearly. And still do. When I think back on those days now, I remember them as warm. Long. Balmy. Bright sunlight dappled by the trees. I remember a sprinkler and the smell … Continue reading Under the avocado tree

“I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”

“It’s dark. Not the middle of the night, but more like the waning hours of twilight. And it’s warm, like a mid-summer’s evening. Not uncomfortably hot. But perfectly comfortable. I feel relief. Like, perhaps, it had just been hot, but it has cooled, the sun has set and a light breeze has picked up, fanning tendrils of hair around my face. Like it had just been cold, icy, and I am now sitting next to a crackling fire, warm molten heat flowing around me. Overall, it’s quiet… But I can hear voices in the distance. Happy voices. Laughter even. And … Continue reading “I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.”