Jodi Hills

So this is who I am – a writer that paints, a painter that writes…


Trampling over.

We went for a walk under a gray sky. We have been searching for the fall colors. At first glance, this did not seem to be the prettiest of days. Dominique was just a little behind me. I heard crunch, crunch, crunch! I looked back and he was smiling, ankle deep in a pile of leaves. Each crackle of the leaves said, “There is no such thing as time. There is no gloomy day. Only you. What you make of it!” The fallen leaves were not sad. They were not over. They had merely changed.

We came home and I painted the colors I longed for. The colors I heard in crackling leaves.

The sun is shining through the window this morning. A better day,” I thought. Then smiled. Better. Better days don’t just come. They are created by hands. Summoned by hearts. Invented by brains. Welcomed with courage. Light beams through open doors. Open minds. Paths to higher ground are made by trampling over discarded fears. We, in fact, are the better days ahead, if we choose, if we believe, if we try. If we reach in, reach out, and become. Be the better day.