When the River Rises and the Wind Blows High

Endless pale beach, pale river twisting through, tiny human figures in two scant groups When the Wind Blows High

Cora stretched her long neck, beak pecking the fast moving clouds in the pale sky. Twisting, she at last freed herself from her heavy, confining carapace.  It’d been necessary protection against wicked solar radiation, brought on by the forebears of those singing blessings to the thin creek twisting through desert, below. Continue reading “When the River Rises and the Wind Blows High”

Dog Days and a Purple Moon

Sunny street cafe, blue and pale barn red, warmNita traced the path of a seagull, as it tipped and bounced through the harbor breeze, noting its resemblance to the whitecaps further out and closer to the breakwater. There’s a reminder there, she thought, that a thing is not always as it seems at first glance.  Continue reading “Dog Days and a Purple Moon”

Six Months Ago…

snow-covered trees and shrub around a flowing streamIt’s been hot here in the Twin Cities.

Hot and humid.

Hot and humid and COVID.

So much so, that folks are divided on whether to wear masks or not, and what the actual distance of six feet looks like: whether distance is different in an enclosed space versus an open space, whether the current air filtration system is adequate to dispel the exhalations (the coronavirus soup), whether six feet is buffer enough when one is active, whether adding a drink or two to the mix makes for exponential risk… Continue reading “Six Months Ago…”