Never Forget Turning forty tomorrow Evenings feel longer Memories knocking stronger People forgotten Turning in my mind Arriving like paper flowers Turning my frown upside down Inviting new wishes On tomorrows page I write Never forget where you came from… ©AnitaDawes2022
I went looking for some peace and tranquillity this morning… something about this image was perfect!
I have always been a fan of Anita’s writing, her wonderful books, and her incredible poetry, so this is what I am posting today.
This week has left me drained, I have been so busy, what with catching up on all the chores that didn’t get done thanks to me being on retreat, locked in my office. And I have managed to get a lot more writing done too, as the muse decided to hang around and nag me. Not complaining, mind you, but couldn’t think of a better way to end the week.
As long as I can hold a pen I will write the stories I am sent They are children running free In fields inside my head. Easy you say. Pin one down Write what's said They do not come fully formed my friend They need a few words from me to help them run A violent ending or happy Is theirs to tell I wait impatiently for every word Surprised at times at what is said They were no more than bones Inside my head Now flesh has formed If they could walk from the pages They would fit in our world As easily as you or me Those some I say, should not Share the air we breathe… ©anitadawes 2020
This post was written a while ago and is one of my favourites. I really must do more of these…
I am in the habit of changing my screen saver/background image quite often. I like to have something lovely on my computer screen, as it is the first thing I see every morning.
This picture appealed to me for several reasons. I love trees, and this one is lovely but also ethereal, the mist hiding most of the scene. I particularly like the contrast between the nakedness of the sleeping tree and the tree covered in blossom.
I have recently found myself ‘skimming’ when reading and writing, and I am not seeing or describing anything enough, which is not good. This post is an exercise not only for my eyes but also for my imagination. I don’t want to think of my old age robbing me of so much of my enjoyment of life.
The blossom tree in this image attracted me first, being frustratingly out of focus enough to prevent easy identification. The blossoms are pure white, with no hint of colour, and the petals are delicate and small. The branches look old, but the slender double trunk would suggest otherwise. Are there any more clues in the picture?
The tree is blooming very early. The companion trees are still bare, their branches stark and austere looming through the mist. Winter has not long departed, as I imagine the chilly dampness of the morning on my skin. The shrubbery in the background is sparse, too, confirming that Mother Nature is not fully awake yet.
My mind sifts through my knowledge of flowering trees and comes up with a likely choice. Is it a Magnolia, one of the small-flowered varieties, maybe Stellata?
Moving on from the details of the image, my mind is not finished. I wonder where this lovely little tree is. The setting would suggest a park, for the area seems too big to be someone’s garden. Vague images hide in the mist, indicating far more space than first thought.
Could that be a roof I see? It doesn’t look like the roof of a house, though…
My mind yearns to explore this scene, visit the tree and then walk into the mist to see what I can discover…
Rain fall I care less where it comes from Only that it comes Liquid magic from above Tiny drops that cling To the edge of a leaf A jewel that remains for hours While others disappear Watch the birds taking a bath Creating perfect dancing spheres Of liquid magic That drop into the pool Waiting to dance again Where would we be without it? No puddles to splash in No boating holidays No lounging by the sea Life cannot be without it I cannot be without it Best of all, rain on my window Watching each drop race down… ©AnitaDawes2022
April 11, 2022, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story using the phrase, water falls. Where is the water coming from? How does it shape a story? Who does it involve? Go where the prompt leads!
Don’t Run I run around the world Searching for something that’s behind, tapping me on the shoulder the faster I run the harder they tap the wind whispers turn around it’s all there, waiting for you I stop, I turn, I stare Into the mirror I hear, don’t run… ©AnitaDawes2022
I See You I see a piece of you like a puzzle that has slipped out of place it's the reason you are out of step with your life. I see the chaos in the space between strange moments that don't fit that don't belong to you. As if someone is trying to occupy the space before it closes. I hear your voice, the sound belongs to another harsh, cruel. It scares me as if someone has taken a piece of my mind. Does it match your missing part? Will we find a way to put them back in place? will life tear more away, as if we were no more than cardboard cut-outs from a forgotten jigsaw puzzle... ©AnitaDawes2019
Number One New York Times bestselling author Kathy Reichs returns with her nineteenth riveting novel featuring forensic anthropologist Temperance Brennan, who must use all her tradecraft to discover the identity of a faceless corpse, its connection to a decade-old missing child case, and the reason the dead man had her phone number.
It’s sweltering in Charlotte, North Carolina, and Temperance Brennan, still recovering from neurosurgery following an aneurysm, is battling nightmares, migraines, and what she thinks might be hallucinations when she receives a series of mysterious text messages, each containing a new picture of a corpse that is missing its face and hands. Immediately, she’s anxious to know who the dead man is, and why the images were sent to her.
An identified corpse soon turns up, only partly answering her questions.
To win answers to the others, including the man’s identity, she must go rogue. With help from a number of law enforcement associates including her Montreal beau Andrew Ryan and the always-ready-with-a-smart-quip, ex-homicide investigator Skinny Slidell, and utilizing new cutting-edge forensic methods, Tempe draws closer to the astonishing truth.
But the more she uncovers, the darker and more twisted the picture becomes …
Temperance Brennan is back, but not in the pink if you know what I mean.
In this story, she has all kinds of problems, most she doesn’t have a dog’s chance of overcoming.
But you just know she will find the way.
This is the first story by Kathy Reichs I have read, but I have long been a fan of the popular tv series based on these books. It has been a real eye-opener to meet the real character.
She may not be the person I thought I knew, but she is someone I recognise. The same attention to detail and overwhelming need to know the truth.
It took me a while to accustom myself to this totally different Bones compared to the one I have been watching for years, but my first impression was favourable. The Bones in this book is a sensible, technically minded, deep thinking woman, one with a shocking sense of humour and the ability to swear like a trooper. Definitely, my kind of role model!
In A Conspiracy of Bones, Temperance is exhausted and confused, trying to come to terms with losing her job and her recent life-threatening brain trauma. She becomes involved in a nasty and mysterious crime through anonymous images and messages sent to her phone.
Written in the first person, I could feel the alienation with her circumstances, and be inside her head to know how her brain works. Frustrated with being incapacitated and unemployed, she desperately wants to discredit the one person who conspired to steal her job. Trying to solve a case long-distance tries her weakened capabilities to their limit, but fascinating to watch.
I loved the scene where she finally managed to fall asleep while looking at a tiny statue of Ganesh. I wondered if she was praying for him to solve some of her problems…
Kathy Reichs’s first novel Déjà Dead catapulted her to fame when it became a New York Times bestseller and won the 1997 Ellis Award for Best First Novel. Her other Temperance Brennan novels include Death du Jour, Deadly Décisions, Fatal Voyage, Grave Secrets, Bare Bones, Monday Mourning, Cross Bones, Break No Bones, Bones to Ashes, Devil Bones, 206 Bones, Spider Bones, Flash and Bones, Bones Are Forever, Bones of the Lost, Bones Never Lie, Speaking in Bones and the Temperance Brennan short story collection, The Bone Collection. In addition, Kathy co-authors the Virals young adult series with her son, Brendan Reichs. The best-selling titles are: Virals, Seizure, Code, Exposure, and Terminal along with two Virals e-novellas, Shift and Swipe. These books follow the adventures of Temperance Brennan’s great niece, Tory Brennan. Dr. Reichs is also a producer of the hit Fox TV series, Bones, which is based on her work and her novels.
From teaching FBI agents how to detect and recover human remains, to separating and identifying commingled body parts in her Montreal lab, as a forensic anthropologist Kathy Reichs has brought her own dramatic work experience to her mesmerizing forensic thrillers. For years she consulted to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner in North Carolina, and continues to do so for the Laboratoire de Sciences Judiciaires et de Médecine Légale for the province of Québec. Dr. Reichs has travelled to Rwanda to testify at the UN Tribunal on Genocide, and helped exhume a mass grave in Guatemala. As part of her work at JPAC (Formerly CILHI) she aided in the identification of war dead from World War II, Korea, and Southeast Asia. Dr. Reichs also assisted with identifying remains found at ground zero of the World Trade Center following the 9/11 terrorist attacks.
Dr. Reichs is one of only 100 forensic anthropologists ever certified by the American Board of Forensic Anthropology. She served on the Board of Directors and as Vice President of both the American Academy of Forensic Sciences and the American Board of Forensic Anthropology, and is currently a member of the National Police Services Advisory Council in Canada. She is a Professor in the Department of Anthropology at the University of North Carolina-Charlotte.
Dr. Reichs is a native of Chicago, where she received her Ph.D. at Northwestern. She now divides her time between Charlotte, NC and Montreal, Québec.
Who do we pray to when we kneel? I don’t know A God made by man From clay, like a golem Brought to life by wishing it so We gave Him all the power save free will? It is written, ask, knock and the door will open Like open sesame Why do we ask, knock? only to get no answer I DON’T KNOW We gave him a get out clause His mysterious ways Yet his name is the first from our lips When troubles pursue STILL, I DON’T KNOW ©AnitaDawes2022