Tuesday out and around   

I took the long way back home this morning, enjoying the quiet road and the bright sun. There, a view was worth pulling over for got me taking photos and tonight I started this, but it has to dry.

NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-three

Thirty-three degrees
Night rain glass beads on car door
Late April morning

Still dew illuminated
Fog flowing soft over hill
weighted by stillness

top step creaks with frost
Morning, chill fog expanding
gold floods the hillside.

hidden birds waiting
quiet hillside wrapped in fog
trees golden with sun

NaPoWriMo, Day Nineteen

Had this notion on the way to work about the color of the world seeping up toward the sky in spring but on the way home I saw my first of the wonderful white flowering shrubs that to me really speak to Spring’s official arrival.

After four, maybe five months of the sky
throwing down sifts and squalls and bucket loads
of snow and more snow and piling it up
in the normal fashion of New England
And it seems to many deeper and more
snow than it has to be to make a point.
Miraculously it all vanishes
but the woods stand brown and empty awhile.
The earth at last yields color to the world –
the new grasses shining in golden light
treetops pink and impossibly yellow
waiting for leaves to burst summery.
Shrub rows of white petals wind-tossed laughing
spring flecks falling across the joyous sky.

NaPoWriMo, Day Twelve

Haven’t you heard the effect of peepers zooming by in the night?

I wanted to write you words tonight
driving home from work, after a movie
but I watched the world instead.
The highway rolled by, familiar,
random red dots leading me on,
behind, beads strung across
the mirror, those urging me on.
In town, a sideview glance
confirmed the green as I passed.
Why do I always look?
Then miles more of two lane but
the old car’s rumblings can’t
conceal the Doppler waves of peepers
passing in the springtide.
In the dark driveway,
April uncertainty shrugged off by
Orion, he sits on the rim of the world
pondering his journey while I
fetch the mail and go inside.

Thursday, Happy Birthday Vincent

Last night brought a return of the cold that knocked me down not so long ago… Not even the Quils seemed to touch it. This morning – no voice at all for awhile. What can you do other than be glad for spare boxes of tissues and a hearty supply of tea and a speedy electric kettle?

Did this one the other day.

Today would have been Vincent Van Gogh’s 164th birthday so here’s a painting to thank him for the inspiration.

This was done using a photo I took recently while driving a back road that well, if I’d known it was a bit of mud-season going on, I would not have gone anywhere near it. Took a long time to get rid of all the mud. Wasn’t it nice though of someone to put up a bright snow fence?

One more thing

I almost forgot to mention that Saturday I saw what I hadn’t seen in two years of one lane bridges in my little hamlet: someone who stopped at the red stoplight and then decided, what the heck, to just go across anyway. Pfft, red lights.

It wasn’t that he decided to go through the changing light. Nope. He was stopped at the light when I pulled up behind him. He drove through and got to the other side as a big pick up with trailer started through the green light on the other side.

I wished he’d been just a little slower so the pick up could have made him back up the length of the bridge. You can bet your booties that’s what I intend to do if I ever encounter someone who ignored the stoplight.

A Paler Shade of Sunset

but with reflections!

sunset 2 August 2016//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js