
Determined (Wordless Wednesday)




And a friendly reminder, April is National Poetry Month #NPM
I was wading in the surf on Matagorda beach one warm, sunny day while exchanging dialogue with Clara.

I had known Clara for about ten years and I have to admit, conversing with her was like pulling teeth. I don’t want to say she was dull, but she was too quiet and a tad introverted.
Don’t get me wrong, Clara is a lovely girl. She is smart and pretty and sweet and kind, but she was just too darn nice for the most part. Too calm, too reasonable, too… dull! There, I said it!
Anyway, as I was wading in the surf, dragging my feet (literally to scatter the sting rays) I was thinking how I might kill her.
I know that must sound horrible, we had been comrades for so long, but she wearied me.
Her unspoiled, hoity-toity, prim and proper, everything by the book personality made me want to send her sailing face down with the outgoing tide. I think she knew it (she has that sixth sense thing, you know).
I didn’t expect Clara to fight me; it wasn’t in her nature. She had been so silent and distant; it seemed she had given up on life and maybe she wanted to die?
I had mulled it over and over in my mind for weeks and finally I had come to terms with my decision. Clara no longer served an identifiable purpose and she must be done away with.
Suddenly the voice of a perky little blonde caught my attention; she was running down the beach waving and shouting,
“Hey y’all, wait for me.”
Oh my lord, I thought, while trying to ignore the thin, tanned Mississippian’s approach.
I have to do it now – get it over with.
I hurriedly pushed Clara toward the incoming wave but she didn’t budge; her feet were planted too firmly.
“Don’t make this difficult!” I coaxed her, “just relax and go with the sea. It will be over and we – I can move on.”
I filled my lungs with sweet, salty air and dug my feet into the sand.
I was thinking, I’ll push her out far enough for the current to carry her away. I knew where the current was rushing dangerously below the surface, just past the sand bar.
I grabbed her shoulders and pushed, harder this time. And again, she did not move! Worse than that and to my surprise the quiet, zest-less little mouse pushed back!
“Hey! Hey!” The Mississippian yelled, “What the hell are you doing? Leave her alone!”
I’m not sure why I obliged this person whom I had never met, but I stepped back.
I studied Clara, standing there quiet and unshaken. Her eyes fixed on mine and oddly, I no longer saw her as the timid, boring little thing I wanted to kill. I recognized the quiet strength she had held all along.
“Do you know her?” I asked, referring to the woman approaching us.
Clara shook her head slowly and smiled, “No but you do. You met her on a trip to Biloxi once.”
I was speechless.
“Hey, I’m Maggie,” the lady smiled as she looked past me and held out her hand, “you must be Clara.”
I suppose it’s true that opposites attract. I watched Maggie come alive and in doing so she saved Clara.
*This is a story about a story. Clara and Maggie are safe and sound (for the most part) inside a fictional series.
Read about their meeting in Book 1
Thankfully there is no law against writers killing their characters and no penalty for attempted murder. 😉
This series will be on sale again March 2022.

Cue 1972 Stevie Wonder – and Merlin
When you believe in things that you don’t understand then you suffer,

Superstition ain’t the way.


Only a theory, only a thought.
Utter chaos. Freedom sought.

Tranquil conscience. Congruent souls.
Harmonizing. Flocks and folds

Wars abounding, strife and sorrow
Never hoping past the morrow.

Ethics prevail; morals abstract.
None to govern what we lack.

Only a theory, only a thought
Anarchy…
Life without law.


It’s out of the flip-flops and back in the Reeboks
and long pants dug out of the dust
So long to the tank tops, bikinis and cut offs
and lawn chairs left lying to rust
Adieu to the sand dune, the pelican and plain loon

My loves, we’ll see you `fore long
Leaves drop as trees swoon, long past the crop moon
With the scent of a sweet autumn song

Let’s all take a big swill to ward off the night chill
Winter’s a season away
Crank up the camp fire; avoid the ole quagmire
With children perched high on the hay
More about the Autumn Equinox at National Geographic
Well my oh my, that is a good looking picnic table.

I sometimes imagine Jimmy as a child …
or Leia transforming and taking fight …
what’s more, I wish it were all possible.
AND
I hope I never get too old for such childish thoughts. They are, after all, what dreams and stories are made of.
Cloud Wrangler was born of such childishness. 😉 