It is a rare treat to be in the Memorial Garden at sunset.
After the feeders leave, a hush falls over the entire rescue as pups – exhausted from a day of play – bed down with full bellies for the night. 201 more words
by cheri sabraw
When I was ten, I spent most of a morning fashioning a set of golden wings. Akin to making a kite, which my father Hugh had taught me to do, I designed a balsa wood skeleton, added a thin veneer of paper using yesterday’s San Francisco Chronicle and then pressed each seam down with Elmer’s glue. 654 more words