A herd of bison graze our north boundary
They are cautious
Leery of humans
I chanced upon them this afternoon
Poked my lens between spruce branches and wire fence
Took my shots
Then the old bull turned
And eye to eye
We met
Sharing the wild
A herd of bison graze our north boundary
They are cautious
Leery of humans
I chanced upon them this afternoon
Poked my lens between spruce branches and wire fence
Took my shots
Then the old bull turned
And eye to eye
We met
I went in search of spotted coralroot orchids
Found fallen stars instead
Gathered in the roadside ditch
Star-flowered Solomon’s seal Maianthemum stellatum (aka Smilacina stellata)
Amid a bed of moss
And leftover leaves
A promise …
Ruffed grouse Bonasa umbellus
In our woods
spring arrives
in small steps
Beneath overhanging limbs
it does a slow reveal
Peeling snow away
to showcase
shiny feather moss.
Drink the air
Breathe spruce and
The shadowed whiteness of snow
Inhale winter.
Each spring
when the soil has lost its winter chill
I plant sweet peas
propping their stems
against the chicken wire
for support.
I fertilize.
I weed.
I water.
And I wait.
In time
the stems weave up the wire
trailing ribbons of
delicate, sweet-scented colour
in their wake.
Enough with the cold.
The snow.
The wind chill.
Enough!
So I added a little colour.
It’s warmer already.
We are one day past the solstice.
The year’s darkest corner has been turned
and I can feel my spirits lift.
Fresh snow fell this week
and in the woods
silence hangs thick upon the branches.
Sol plays hide-and-seek behind the trees
then suddenly flashes green and red.
Mother Nature’s Christmas card.
Weather bounces warm and cold
Snow melts and freezes
Thaws again
If it weren’t for the rocks
I’d get out the skates
And hit the road
Last night Jack Frost
Blew against my windows
And feathered them with ice
You must be logged in to post a comment.