Wake Up and Write Writer's Retreat Workshop
dialogue with doc
It was Christmas time in 2011, and my mother had died of Alzheimer's only two months before. The heart knows what it needs, doesn't it? I went back to a place alive with mystery, a riot of color and fragrance, and the wonder and magic of childhood that never really dies...
A few of the glorious flowers at Phipps...
An orchid orchard...
The secret path that was not so secret...no matter how many times I walked through this little underground passageway, I never tired of exploring every inch of it.
The Christmas displays were always dramatic and lush...see the poinsettias peeking out from behind the cactus below?
Walls for the wind
and a roof for the rain
and drinks beside the fire
laughter to cheer you
and those you love near you
and all that your heart may desire...