Mom’s Awaiting

Tucked in a tree sit two wise old owls. Safe and warm….waiting. Waiting for the sun to rise. Waiting for the sun to set. Waiting for the birth of their babes. Who one day may also become a wise old owl.

Something Simple

FOR BEAUTY BEING THE THE BEST OF ALL WE KNOW By Robert Bridges For beauty being the best of all we know Sums up the unsearchable and secret aims Of nature, and on joys whose earthly names Were never told can form and sense bestow; And man has sped his instinct to outgo The step…

Enter the Garden

I shall enter the garden through the heavy gates. Pushing the gate ajar, it resists and creaks with the effort. It is a different world inside the garden. An Eden, an oasis. A place where the spirit is lifted from the heavy burden. The lilies shine light and glimmer in the sun. Tadpoles swimming below.…

The Old Bridge

The old bridge, strong for over a hundred years. The tales it could tell. Of the babbling brook that flows beneath or of the footsteps that walked above. This bridge, of man-sized stones tightly bound. Even Mother Nature with her attempts, blizzards, earthquakes, heavy rains. The bridge remains Presidents and dignitaries have enjoyed the cool…

The Old Tree Knows

In the whispers of the wind, the old tree knows. The changing of the light shows promise. With March barely here, spring is soon to appear. The streams filled with melting snow. Rushing with life to the forest floor. Tucked in the winter debris, bright colors of a crocus catch the eye. Yes, spring is…

Along the Creek

Along the creek the boulders hold strong. Along the rushing water, melting from the snow. The woods quiet, hushed from the winter’s blow. As spring begins to draw near.

A Willet

A Willet, walking alone along the sandy surf. His feathers buffy and soft. With an elegant step he moves along the water line. A ghost crab, a minnow, either will do.

“Nature” is what we see

“Nature” is what we see— The Hill—the Afternoon— Squirrel—Eclipse— the Bumble bee— Nay—Nature is Heaven— Nature is what we hear— The Bobolink—the Sea— Thunder—the Cricket— Nay—Nature is Harmony— Nature is what we know— Yet have no art to say— So impotent Our Wisdom is To her Simplicity. by Emily Dickinson These images are more “Nature’s…