Learning to Fly

    Dusk’s magical lighting fell over the manicured grounds, so at first, I thought it was a baby bat. It was on the pavement, so close to the lush

Grateful for Fear.

The first time I felt the icy prick of panic was during the summer, in a restaurant with my family. The hairs stood on my neck and back, I was shaking, my body was chilly, but sweating with fear. Terror trickled down my spine. (Click title to read more).

Grace; Part One.

  At age ten I sat in my family’s dining room perusing the glutinous treats that were spread across the table. Father Michael, our family priest (I am Irish and

Adele? In a Raincoat?

When the website name came to me, I shot the idea off to a few of my trusted friends. One being Julie; my BFF, one of my Hawkmates, and a practiced blogger. Julie is honest with me, transparent to the core. (Click above to read more).