Where did it all begin?  Thinking back, I believe it started with the ants.  And the worms.  I owe thanks to both my mother and to Gramma,  a woman of quiet wisdom and a gentle love of life,  for helping me to appreciate "the little creatures."  "We don't need to cry, look how hard they are working."   To quote my mother, who, I suspect, heard the same thing from her mother.  Hence, my lifelong avoidance of scuffing those tiny anthills and my compulsion for rescuing worms out of puddles when it rains.

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On a summer day in 2014, my husband and I took a drive to the coast.  The sea was calm, Spouting Rock was quiet.  As I stood looking at the sea, I noticed the gentle thumping sound the wash of the waves made as they came against the ragged opening in the rock.  With that sound, a concept was born, a phrase was formed, and so, the first poem, "Spouting Rock" came to be.  Thus, began my own journey of putting verse to sight and sound.

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What began as a creative outlet for myself has blossomed into something I have found to be both a delight as well as a challenge.  The years have passed, poems have been penned and stories have been told.  The time to share has come.  Thank you for the gift of your time, Dear Reader.  Live well, wander often, and don't forget to observe, imagine and meditate.

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Sincerely,

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Susan Brackett

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