Moss
Moss on the ground, moss on the shrubs, moss on the trees. Moss on the sidewalks, moss in the street. I dare not stop. I dare not sleep. Moss on my feet. . [ 1742 ]
Tag Archive for ‘Moss’
Release
Blue sky? Warmth? Is it possible? What a strange dream. Moss is growing on the dahlia bed. The maples are an odd sort of green. Can those be leaves? Pinch yourself. Yes, those are nests in the trees. Look again. The last of your thoughts are blowing to sea. There they go. Back to the ether. No need for me. . [ 1729 ]
Quick Harvest
Thirty-seven degrees. There was snow yesterday evening in hilly areas a few miles south, and hail here. Maybe this is why the robins haven’t returned to their unfinished nest in the rhododendron. A few smaller birds, though, have stopped to investigate. Otherwise, the weather continues to be rainy with cool daytime temperatures and brief intervals of sun. Our garden space is still muddy, and the soil hasn’t warmed enough to […]
In This Wise
Today is not a day for writing. Early this morning, I ran to the fig tree and back. Later, we took a long walk by the river, where, high in two leafless cottonwood trees just starting to bud, we saw big, rugged osprey nests. After lunch, I raked the mossy front sidewalk, careful not to dislodge the shepherd’s purse that has sprouted there. Then we walked through the neighborhood, talking […]
Hey, Universe
In me is a little something of everyone who ever lived. Deep in the code, I’ve been through it all. The universe, too, is in my flesh, blood, and bones. That means I’m part of the greatest, most efficient recycling project ever known. As such, I’ve learned not to cling to the idea of being who I am, or who others think I am, or to worry about what will […]
Ten Horses, No Sails
I haven’t raked the leaves from under the maples, or those that are piled deep beneath the big rhododendron by the front door. What’s living in, on, and under them plays a far more important role in the local ecology than any so-called neatness I might achieve. The walk is swept. The flowerbed is ready for spring. That’s enough tidiness. Behind the house, the irises are pushing, and an abundance […]
Running Roads and Trails
Having comfortably extended my morning run to about a mile and a quarter, I’d like next to try the two-and-a-half-mile trail by Goose Lake and the river. And then, eventually, if I haven’t completely lost my mind, or even if I have, or have already, I’d like to run the trails through the mossy canyon, alongside the creek, and past the falls. We’ve met or been passed by runners many […]
Morning Tea
After sipping icy water spiced by moss-crowned leaves, the robin flies from the birdbath to the fence-top for a meeting with the squirrel. When they arrive, they find the sun already waiting at the spot. Welcome to my secret hideaway, says he. I’m surprised you found it. Then the clouds move, and the sun, the robin, and the squirrel disappear. And here we find the poet, not quite ready, in […]
O Holy Night
the sweet call to rest / the bare lilac / the mossy wall / the cedar chest December 23, 2021 . O Holy Night I do love the short days, the early closing in of the dark, the long nights beginning in the afternoon, the afternoons even earlier on the rooftops through the firs. There is so much light in everything everywhere I turn, in objects, faces, and books, the […]
William Michaelian 