Category Archives: Weather

We saved a little winter just for this – a week of cooler days and overcast; another chance to hear the tires kiss the asphalt slick before the rain has passed. It dashes purple petals to the ground. It weights … Continue reading →

A week ago the lazy flies appeared as if there were a carcass in the yard, but now I know they show up every year: obnoxious ugliness, but never hard to kill – a catalog can do the job, or … Continue reading →

My garden sparkles in the morning light, with forty shades of green amid the blues, the pinks, the purples, yellows: every height of bush in bloom in all the rainbow hues. Now lilies with the dahlias congregate, and nod at … Continue reading →

We hosted rain the second day of spring: a playful splash of water from the sky that wet the wood and spattered everything, impelling me to stay here where it’s dry and I’ve a fire burning gas to warm my … Continue reading →

The light of 6 pm invites my eyes to gaze unshielded toward the scene across my busy street. I try to analyze the glow that lays as soft as early moss, as gentle as the sound of water drops upon … Continue reading →

I almost see the vernal equinox, palms outward, chin uprisen, visage bright chartreuse on photosynthesizing clocks, on waking gardens undercast with light. Approaching taller days of spring I sense arousing dawn and dusk-extending hours, when shadows mimic pickets of a … Continue reading →

We didn’t mean to do it but it’s done – we’ve messed our habitat beyond repair. The planet will survive and too the sun, but we’re dysfunctioning in poisoned air upon an orb that’s altering its tilt, below a north … Continue reading →

It’s been two weeks since I admitted spring was soft on us, insinuating birth. The vines and trees unfurl their buds and fling their pollen, while the bulbs disturb the earth with centimeter nudge and infant thrust, their verdance yellow-cored, … Continue reading →

The light this morning comes as a surprise, in rays of gold both young and warm, oblique into the plants, the trees, my weary eyes, in shafts of color strong as I am weak. A flashlight held beneath a camper’s … Continue reading →