Reflective Writing
From the old, wood framed window, across from my bed, I saw a flock of white bellied geese flying by in their greater than, less than sign in the sky. It was so early in the morning, the alarm clock still had over an hour's worth of minutes to tick through. Alarming me with their … Continue reading Morning Geese
Shelter, warmth, cradled by blanket. Aware of Shasta so present and awake. Moonlight bright, reaching spotlight full snow abounding space, mounds of white planets stacked under my feet. Black horizon burning stars surging blue. Glittered ice crisp crystals, silver glass, powdered dust layered in sheets of ivory fabric laced with fiber optics, carpet starched snowflakes … Continue reading Snow Mountain
Cliffs blanketed in clover and overgrown grasses, blackberry vines mound under the tall cypress canopy. Burgundy striped ice plant weave between wildflowers. At the rocky rim, winds cut away timeless sedimentary layers resembling sky blue and violet. The sky is lined in white scattered clouds, how grateful, how lucky, how safe standing between such a … Continue reading Climate Change
Light tinkers, crawls over lichen-painted oak and dangling moss. Up and higher it climbs, striding over darkness with a big transparent foot. Dawn’s white cuff forms around the softening moon changing night to broken shadows. Like a ladder, imprints of glowing squares topple over the treetop, the leaf top. Dew is a smoke screen under … Continue reading Morning Moments
Polar Bear, a distant mirage in the stars and clouds, strong nobel protector in those magic hours of bedtime stories, books, documentaries, legends. Slow luel of winter gazing, snow pouncing cubs, little tummies. I look down at the pink nose on the ballerina bear I just bought my niece for her first Christmas. I touch … Continue reading Polar Bear
Glimpses Gentle currents of fall breeze curl over a patch of prairie land. Around the sun clouds drift casting golden mirages on browning ground. Long lost tales under crispy leaves tan, turning red before winter drawing near. Just like coves of blankets like a dome over my bed evermore dimming quiet and about silent, hibernating … Continue reading Now and Then
A little thump my foot landeath there, upon crackling foliage November bare Done the days of reckless care simpler treasures near, quiet listening ear Cleaner air and a softer stare by the creek bed and the hill Mountain dare do I go, I go up there Ask not for days in spring and tall tales … Continue reading Winter Dare
