In honor of a lovely Saturday yesterday on the porch of darling Tiffani's home, I'm resurrecting a piece from a couple years ago.
Sundays at Tiffani's
Monday - March 13, 2006
I've been escaping on Sunday afternoons to Tiffani's house. About an hour away, it's the perfect distance to listen to music and let go of the city as the skyline fades behind me. I find comfort and peace in the warmth, calm, and gentleness of my dear sisterfriend, just by being around her. Her wise advice and insight is complimented with her deep loyalty to righteousness and a fire that burns in her belly. It's the kind of fire that warms you but also makes you dance.
Even with the sounds of gunshots from beyond the trees it is perfectly peaceful on her porch with piles of seashells and bluegrass floating out from inside the house. I notice new things every time I come here, all lovely little symbols of Tiffani's life, love, and spirit. I notice a clay hand, just a tiny bit smaller than my hand, cupping a tea light candle. The perfect tree line borders a clear expanse of sky- its dreamy blue today, last time we watched a purple sunset, the time before that, thunder and lightning. The gentle breeze flows through me. I imagine it blowing literally through me, taking with it the tension from my shoulders, the headache of the last 3 days, and the ever-growing to-do list in my mind.
The chirping of birds harmonizes with the bells of her wind chimes: a fish, a pyramid, a heart.
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