There is nothing like a visit to one of my favorite Colorado rivers to revitalize my spirit, help slow me down, and help put me back to my roots. There’s nothing quite as serene as sitting at the water’s edge at dusk, watching rainbow trout jump for their dinners, and seeing the wisp of sunset …
Author: Katherine Darlington
I have had an interest in writing since childhood. My stories, poetry and articles have appeared in HoneyColony, Grit, History's Women, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, Created Equal, five poetry anthologies, and other publications. I have also written and published two novels: "Gypsy Wind," and "An Angel for Leonie." New novels are in the works. Thank you for visiting my website! www.katherinedarlington.com
This Thing Called Time
In the past few years, I’ve become more aware of how short life really is, not that I want to sound like a cliché. It’s not that I didn’t know or think about this before, but as I get older, I see that there are less years ahead of me than behind me. Way over …
A Crow and His Babbles
It was a spring day, and by spring day, I mean it was a nice day, although it wasn’t quite spring. It was the time of year when it wasn’t winter any more, but it wasn’t spring, either. The flowers and shrubs hadn’t yet bloomed, but juicy little weeds began to peek their way up …
STUFF
Stuff. I have a lot of it, more than I thought I did. In fact, in the past couple of years I have spent time going through things I stored in my barn out back, in closets, in nooks and crannies in my garage, and in the past decade I put a few things into …
Who I Am
Dear Friends, I was born in Alabama, on a hot June day. My grandfather had built the homestead years before. I had a sister and three brothers. It was a nice place, with green grass, wherever you looked. My papa was a newspaper editor. I wish I could remember more about where I was born, …
Where Are You, Christmas?
"Where Are You, Christmas?" is a song written by James Horner, Mariah Carey and Wilbur Jennings. The video is a visual palate of awe-inspiring scenery, reminding me of my beautiful Colorado, and Faith Hill's voice is smooth and rich, so these things together bind my heart and make my eyes tear up almost every single …
The Sound of Night
It was deep July when the cicadas and crickets and fireflies made their songs and flicks of life come alive at night. Mama and I would always sit on the back porch this time of year, and the squeak-squeak of her rocking chair added to the evening's music. I was thirteen this year, and I …
One More Day
My dad was close to his mother, my grandmother. I was close to her, too. I like to think that when I was young and spent time with Grandmother that I realized how special it was, and that I knew how blessed I was, too. Between the sweet, warm scent of lilacs filling up my …
Door Jambs
We all have chips and dents. My favorite plates have chips; my favorite cups have chips, and I have a hard time giving them away. Just because they have dents doesn't mean I don't still find them useful, or even beautiful. Chipped things can be beautiful. I remember when I was pregnant with my first …
Spring’s Farce
"Come outside and play," smiled the sun, on Spring's first day, "Can't you see the bright, blue sky? It looks so warm! There are no clouds!" And the sun spun 'round and 'round while flaxen sun-beamed ribbons twirled through the air -- The flower nodded and stepped into the light... Oh, it was cold! …
New Beginnings 