Ice Storm

Photo Copyright:

Today tiny icicles hang from the swing-set like clear beads dangling from a lampshade. Every tree, every fence post, every rooftop shimmers like glass. On a nearby hill, the tall, slender white pines bow toward a stand of silverstruck maples.  They take up a graceful dance to the wind’s eerie music.  They clatter like a string of Christmas lights hitting the hardwood, their limbs encased in icy coats.  I don’t ever recall seeing or hearing anything quite like it.  It is both intriguing and eerie.  I wonder how many branches will break under the weight of the unwanted burden.

Continue reading Ice Storm


Photo Copyright:

Tonight a cold moon casts bold shadows over a crisp snow. Venus hovers near the lunar crescent, outshining all her co-stars.  And the Big Dipper hangs low on the horizon, slopping all its contents over the down-turned handle onto the treetops.  A brisk wind bends the tall spruce spires, making the illusion they are bowing under the weight of whatever the dipper is dumping out complete.

Underfoot, the snow creaks a complaint about the weight of my boots.  Truth be told, we’d both prefer it was just a little warmer.

Continue reading Moonstruck

Deep Freeze

Photo Copyright:


Today it’s just plain cold. The thermometer says eleven below zero.   I’m out taking photos despite the icy air that numbs my cheeks and chin.  My frosty fingers fumble clumsily with the camera, and warmth from my face fogs the viewfinder.  I snap a few shots of winter scenes and make a beeline for the house.  The snow underfoot squeaks as I walk, like Styrofoam packing peanuts being squished together, but all I’m thinking about is sipping hot cocoa while wrapped up in a fleece throw.  Continue reading Deep Freeze

Tamarack Swamp

Photo Copyright:

Today the dawning day backlights the sun-tanned tamaracks in a nearby swamp.   Gold-infused light bounces off the surrounding cattail plants, with tails fuzzy and full as frightened felines, and colors the cool fall morning warm.  Nestled among the trees and tails are stands of low-lying shrubs, burdened with brilliant red berries.  The scene is rich and lovely, like rubies set in a solid gold crown. Continue reading Tamarack Swamp


Photo Copyright:

Today, after the fog lifts, heavy dew covers every living, and non-living thing. An orb-weavers web, woven in perfect symmetry, is be-jeweled with dewdrops, each a tiny prism glinting in the rising sun.  Each pine needle threatens to shed a tiny tear.  Each blade of grass is damp.  Dew pools and trickles down the granary’s metal roof.  It sounds like a slow rain dripping into the puddles below.

Continue reading Dewdrops

Church in Ruins

Ireland 555
Photo Copyright:

Today I realized I never posted anything to my blog in May or June. Not that it matters.  I have no followers.  I continue doing it anyway because it’s a good exercise in discipline, I paid for the sight, and I think I have something worthwhile to say that may, one day, be discovered by someone.

May and June just got away from me. I’m working now, which complicates things.  We had a family wedding the first weekend in May, and a rummage sale the second.  I worked the third weekend then hosted my daughter’s graduation party on Memorial Day.  Ramping up for the party was quite a job in itself, but to complicate matters we were flying to Ireland two days later.  So, there was housework, yard work, shopping, cooking, laundry, and a dog grooming.  There were dentist appointments, doctor appointments, last minute car repairs, and instructions for house/cat sitter.  There was printing out tickets, and last-minute banking and packing.  Finally, we were on the plane.

Continue reading Church in Ruins

Spring Rain

Photo Copyright:

Today a fresh scent fills the air as a bank of clouds rolls in from the west. I sit in the tire swing which hangs from the muscular arm of an old oak tree and watch the coming storm.  In the distance, thunder rumbles low and long.  An uncanny, and unexpected, flood of joy and relief washes over me and brings tears to my eyes.  The peels of thunder break winter’s silent fetters that chained my soul.  I face the wind, fresh and warm with mild overtones.  It tugs at my mussed hair and pulls at my cotton shirt as it races past.  I stretch out my arms, as I did when I was young, with a wish it could lift me from the ground and carry me above the trees.

Continue reading Spring Rain