This week my neighborhood is more suburban than urban. I am in the mountains breathing good air, and getting good sleep.
last night the rains came
nature’s lullaby
dreams danced in childhood
Twin maples, now bare
The smallest of the forsythia bushes, such curves.
Something was slittering through the crunchy ice
Remnants of fall long gone
That picnic table is doomed after many harsh winters
Old mini cabin holding secrets of tiny creatures
Crunchy snow and ice along upper edges of the creek
The winter sun was starting to set the light on the water was captivating.
Pat R
2/25/16
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