The Hawk
The hawk watched intently, even posing for me, shifting positions on its perch to offer a different view of its beauty. At one point, our eyes locked. It seemed as if the hawk was looking into my soul, my very being. It was a “wow” moment.
The hawk watched intently, even posing for me, shifting positions on its perch to offer a different view of its beauty. At one point, our eyes locked. It seemed as if the hawk was looking into my soul, my very being. It was a “wow” moment.
With a hurting heart, I began in early March of 2008, to dig the plants from my Mother’s yard and move them to mine, creating what became a Memory Garden. Each time I made a trip to her house, digging in her dirt, my heart would break and the tears would fall…