Rain again, running down the sky, •
the window, into the roots •
of still uncertain plants… Continue reading →
is there a map back to where we are going if that’s where we’re going – back. the familiar stream banks fidget day to day as cold early rains return the clouds to earth and remind the fields they aren’t … Continue reading →
It’s 45F and misting and foggy. Since I couldn’t sit out and paint, I went for a little spin with my coffee and camera. So this: The world’s a-song the morning close as cloud to hill the green unable to … Continue reading →
There may be one more. Or not. This was started in the wee-small hours. I appreciate all the visitors and all the poems that were shared by the April poets! The Last before May Why, April, are you so fickle? … Continue reading →
Compare yesterday’s photos with these, taken this morning. Continue reading →
Painting with stiffened hands in zero weather is, in itself, something of a trick.
