I took this picture in Newfoundland in October of 2018. I was standing near the shore looking out toward the Atlantic Ocean. It was sunset. We'd just had a really nice dinner of fish and chips at a restaurant just south of L'Anse aux Meadows. It was the day before my doctor had told me he'd call to let me know whether or not I had breast cancer.

I see so many things in this picture, as  I did when we were there. Of course, I see the trees, the hills, the islands, the water, the clouds, the tiny cabins tucked in close to the water....

But, mostly, I see the sun. Yes, it's setting. But I know it will rise once more in the morning. So from my perspective, this is a picture of reassurance and hope. Perhaps it was a good thing we had earlier booked our first visit to Newfoundland for just that time. Because it is a land of strong, hardy people.

I'm still recovering from the surgery, the chemo, and the radiation, so I still I can't do a lot of things right now, but I can write. And I'm going to write about some of the things I see going in on my world—our world—from my unique perspective.

I should maybe mention that I'm the type of person who doesn't get overtly emotional. I don't dissolve in tears. Never have. I want to know the truth and deal with it. I guess when I was young, I must have taken the adage, "It's no use crying over spilled milk" to heart. 

But the fact that I don't get emotional doesn't mean I don't care. Just the opposite, actually. I simply express my feelings differently.

Each one of us has not only a unique personality but a unique perspective. It's formed by who we are when we arrive on earth (nature), and everything we've done, read, seen, learned, or had happen to us since then (nurture). Our perspective will continue to change as we (intentionally or unintentionally) widen the boundaries of our experiences and understanding. 

What I hope to post here are my thoughts about circumstances, issues, and injustices that matter to me.

Click below to see the first ones:​