“What does she want?” the ocean wonders. “Is she here as supplicant, queen, or warrior?” Continue reading “A Desperate Balance”
Winter sun slides beneath the treeline, crosses the final lavender mile home with strips of deep purple, pale magenta. Neither warms this sub-zero trek. Progress marked by the flash of slender ski tips through new-fallen snow, my rasping breath through a strip of wool scarf. Continue reading “Heading Home”
The wildfire reared and roared, wrapping blistering arms around the rare bambinus aqueous. They steamed and chittered, unable to fully transition to their aquatic form and reach the river. Continue reading “Not on My Watch”
Stepping back, Nora tipped her head, listening to the bright voices within the subterranean waterfall. They wove in and out, considering the words and images she’d already painted on the cave’s rock wall, and stopped on a questioning note, awaiting further input. Continue reading “Noteworthy Collaboration”
I look for her in the living room. The Pendleton blanket is folded and laid neatly on the back of the overstuffed couch (my sister’s choice). Mother’s hand-crocheted throw rests gently on the seat of our childhood rocking chair (my choice). Dust motes swirl in the half-light of this cloudy November afternoon, whispering rumors of light snow mirroring their desultory dance. It’s plenty cold outside those triple-pane windows. Continue reading “Where Has Summer Gone?”
Sighing, she trotted off to the kitchen for more coffee.
Returning, she sat again and watched the cursor blink.
“Alas,” Lady Arabella sighed, holding a palm out from under her parasol. Days of full darkness had been followed by months of half light. “It seems the sun will never again shine, nor rain warm our moonless nights.” Continue reading “A Quality of Mercy”
Once upon a time, summer sunrises warmed deep forest, from chill evergreen to clattering gold, edging our bedroom curtains with the nascent glow of unarticulated adventures. Ceaseless waves, having raked over agate and quartz all night, left hints in bits of driftwood and bobber, and precious white-scrubbed logs from distant islands and Superior storms. Continue reading “What Price Success?”