Memory is the enchanted door that opens into the past. Two little girls finished their egg sandwiches sitting on a picnic blanket on the banks of a stream under the watercolor blue sky of an English summer afternoon.
The moon peeks between the slats of the blinds and a shadow disrupts the moonlight. The coach arrives at my front door attended by two footmen with whom I am familiar. Dressed in tight britches and fitted coats, Muse and Inspiration await my approach. Bundled in pajamas, robe, and padded slippers, I run to the burnished carriage.
June 2016 Spotlight - Sherry Jones Artistry in Wood Carving