Pink Peony Progression
North side yard sports these peonies in progressive states of bloom.
Postured restful now having weathered recent rains, the eldest now nearly too heavy for itself.
Soon, a good dose of sun will raise and swell these blossoms before they, as peonies always do, finally abandon to gravity.
Cows turning grass into milk into cows. Comforting process.
Still morning, time of literal reflection,
considering self’s perception,
realizing world’s objects and reflections,
sometimes appear identical.
On the first clear day in several, on the way from car to back door, my glance was drawn through withered pear tree branches.
A familiar motion of far away lazy tail betrayed horses, apparitions, flashing brilliant white, deep in distant swollen green freshening meadow.
Habitually turning toward home, thinking not much of noticing the horses in their pasture, in a very few steps I realize it’s been many many years since horses pastured here.
When travelling over to a friend’s home recently, I saw what I thought to be a goose keeping an eye on it’s neighbors beaver den. Some kind of wild life neighborhood watch, I thought.
After seeing the goose on several different occasions, I realized that Ms. Goose is keeping an eye on her own nest.
This fellow presided over the side yard recently.
Birds swoop past a birch couple, their white bark echoed by blooming white buds.
This barn remains majestic despite the cant age has presumed upon it. This morning, snow squalls against striving buds. Makes one wonder how many hard springs this barn has endured, how many beings harbored in such conditions.
A recent sunset over Lake Alice ranged from deep purple to blazing orange.
Years ago, circumstances had me visiting the south a couple of times a year.
Driving past endless rows of cotton fields, I imagined that the cotton was clumps of snow that had attached to cold limbs.
The damp snow this week clung to a lilac bush and reminded me of how the cotton looked.