Strawberry Moon

My trouble with with painting the moon

is that even full moon light changes

all the colors in my pallet

to grey and to black. Continue reading “Strawberry Moon”

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On Weeding

So many things are urgent and demanding; too many things require constant attention. My garden is not one. It’s too big, too sprawling, and always needs some attention…but there’s no hurry in it.

Really, there’s no point in rushing; there’s no end to the job. Weeding is a lot like laundry. There’s no way to actually finish doing laundry, and there’s no way to finish weeding. Continue reading “On Weeding”

Ball Points

The sign says, ‘Ball Point Trail’.

“Who names a hiking trail after a pen?” I wonder as we pull into the gravel parking lot.

I imagine some historic ball point pen inventor or maybe a writer. I consider a famous historical, nature-loving philosopher with deep, deep thoughts regarding  pens.

bullpoint

But, on second glance, the sign reads, ‘Bull Point Trail’, not as interesting as a trail named after writing utensils. Continue reading “Ball Points”

Dawn Breezes

Coffee with cream,

steaming into dawn as

a sweet breeze sifts my hair.

Eyes closed in stillness

I hear the ocean in these rustling, rustling leaves

as if the trees speak in the language of waves.

And I wonder if, instead

it’s the ocean calling with the voices of trees.

As the rising steam moves softly sideways and away

I imagine these trees speaking of the shore

as

the ocean dreams of the forest.

And coffee with cream

shifts the waves

of morning leaves.

 

UniverseCheck.

forestcheckPhoto Credit: Anita Bowen Photography