muggy air extracts
a chorus of cicadas
a whining of mosquitoes
a deluge from dark clouds
lightning dashes like fireflies
the tide moves in and out
as a matter of course
through the grass
sunlight plays on water
dancing in autumn
Summer has been busy and I’ve once again been ignoring this blog. It’s harvest season as I write this so I can’t make promises to post regularly just yet, but coming back here every now and then is a little like coming home.
Autumn is my favorite of the seasons. The cooler weather always makes me want to dance. 🙂
the crunch and slide
under my barefoot shoes
reflected on muddy water
a day at the beach
The photo was taken on my recent trip to the Canadian Maritimes at Dennis Beach in New Brunswick. I altered the photo, giving it a painting-like effect, in FotoSketcher. I’ve had it sitting here as my desktop image for a few days and every time I look at it, I hear and feel the crunch and squeak of rocks underfoot as I carefully make my way across the larger rocks down to the sand where walking is much easier. The “barefoot shoes” are Vibrams which simulate barefoot walking. You feel everything underfoot without the ouch factor of actually being barefoot.
At sunrise this morning I watched a red squirrel climbing up one of our maple trees in the front yard. We don’t often see squirrels except for the occasional glimpse of one back in the woods. The rest of the property — near the pond and in the meadows — is too open for them, and the hawks would likely find they make a tasty meal. This morning’s visitor lives across the road near the old farmhouse. I watched as she scampered up the tree, easily and quickly making her way from ground to top, following the sun from horizon to sky.
I hope she made it home safely, back to the trees across the road where the sun makes its first appearance during winter mornings here in the Bogs.
When she looked up, she closed her eyes against the brilliance of the sun, feeling the warmth spread across her face. The brightness was still there, penetrating the darkness behind her eyelids. Bright, bold yellows radiated outwards in star-like patterns. Miniature suns in blazing reds and hot oranges danced and sparkled, the skin protecting the eyes unable to keep out the dazzling sunlight. She thought, “How wonderful to spend time with the sun once again!” as she felt the light fade and the warmth withdraw. The winter clouds had returned.
I used a prompt from A Writer’s Book of Days for today’s small stone. While standing at the kitchen window, soaking up the sunlight, I wrote (in my head) something similar although more like a poem, prior to reading the prompt I’d be using for today. After reading the prompt, I ended up with a longer version of what’s above, and chopped it down to a few sentences to make it a small stone.
The sun makes brief appearances here in the Bogs during the winter months and I’ve learned to mimic the cats, and follow the light around the house when it does come to visit.