Fickle: American Sentence Day 29/108 – revisit

Tin roof and rain – change of plan sounds – watching for Sunday morning sunshine.

~ ~ ~ ~

American Sentence
July 30, 2017
from the Treehouse
Flagstaff, AZ


My time in the treehouse was good – even though the ceilings were slanted and I hit my head often. It was tiny, but it was mine. I was among the treetops near the forest and town. It was the perfect little spot for the time I was there.

I’m grateful for these past posts to reflect on. Time travel!

July 29, 2026
Salem, MA

 


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Holly hails from an illustrious lineage of fortune tellers, yogis, folk healers, troubadours and poets of the fine and mystical arts. Shape-shifting Tantric Siren of the Lunar Mysteries, she surfs the ebbs and flows of the multiverse on the Pure Sound of Creation. Her alchemy is Sacred Folly — revolutionary transformation through Love, deep play, Beauty, and music.

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