the first of frost*.*.*.

the first of frost*.*.*.

Photo by Anthony on

so last night was not a dream (damn), this morning the wet sheen from the previous was quite white, well, opaque maybe, the lawn glossed over with a uniform one coat of ice, for once the lawn is one color, not a patchwork of the various greens of invasive grasses mated with the varieties I actually planted over these odd years, the uniformity and reflectivity of light is a sight to hold onto, if I didn’t have to get to work that is, so I soak in what I can for a minute, and hop in my car, that same loveliness adorning my lawn you ask? well, not so lovely anymore hanging on the windows of the car, damn I didn’t think of using the remote start thing on my phone, mantra: you don’t have a tube TV anymore, you don’t have a tube TV anymore, maybe that dates me… you don’t have a 56k modem anymore, you don’t have a 56k modem anymore, say it with me now folks, anyway, you get the gist, so, I flip on the heated seat (if you have the means, I highly recommend them), and the defroster, could life be any easier? I do find some amazement that time bends in these situations, I mean, not actually, but our perception might like a geller spoon, or is it the mind that bends, et tu neo? how easily my perfectly laid plans are thrown askew by a bit of frozen dew, inch by inch up from the bottom of the windshield retreating like ice sheets after an ice age, majestic too some, less majestic in this form, but much the same process, sans the boulders dragging out lake beds and the like, every inch is an eternity, I flick my wipers to hasten the process, why does the back window defrost so damn fast? I suppose I could drive backwards to work, maybe if I was a movie star, but I’m not (yet…), my stress is amp-ing up a touch (or two), I must admit, I hate being late even when it is of no consequence, this resides, in my wiring, in the code, the programming base, and then I chance look out to my right, my bum all warm and cozy now, look out the passenger window, and see that beautiful blanket on my lawn, stretching like a treaty across all my neighbors as well, and calm, I feel calm.

ah, so some haiku, as I am known to not usually do (to form)…

ah, so some haiku, as I am known to not usually do (to form)…

selective focus photography of yellow flowers
Photo by Charles Pragnell on

little yellow star
for summer has come

notes… well, I must confess I went full on form haiku here, but it makes sense to me, these little flowers in my lawn only bloom in the summer sun, I was out there sweating my,… well never mind, it was hot,  let’s say it that way, but those little flowers, the only ones that populate lawns beside dandelions, have you tasted them? the name is not misplaced, they taste great, something I learned in day camp decades ago. and you know, I have not repeated the experience, I should…

we all look up, and wonder, the sky…

we all look up, and wonder, the sky…

beach blur clouds dawn
Photo by Pixabay on

“clouds, like still tide lines of fire
riding up on the blue
by the watchful eye
of the hazy crescent moon
how might this be just a random combination
no plan in the spectrum
a show that lasts as long as light
the light retreats
into this calming night
as I now await
as come they are –
the stars”

just my interpretation of a setting day, after some rain, the colors make me feel alive, like I belong… in this world, somewhat…

from the porch (hot hot hot version)…

from the porch (hot hot hot version)…

wayfarer sunglasses on sand tilt shift lens photography
Photo by Fabio Partenheimer on

I could sense a palpable sigh as the rain began to fall, as if the ground was tired of holding up the heat and wished to heave the warmth back into the sky, I watched the lightning coming in, the breeze as an emissary picking up, I am in no hurry to run for cover, this is a welcome rain, I have seen days that hit three digits, I have seen heat waves, so this was not some panic toxic today, just a nod to not be working out in the yard, better to dip your feet in the water and sip on a frozen pina colada by the neighbor’s pool, some would say my mother raised a fool, but at least not this day, so anyway, back to the rain, I am not sure if it is perception, reaction, or imagination, the change seems swift, the temperature drops like a bullet, plummets, not very scientific of me, just the feel, the hair on my arms as the weather stations reporting the local condition, my dog rolling around on her back, in the grass, getting all wet, she does not like to be clean, she’s over ten years old now, so she has earned the privilege of her particular needs, so I let her roll around until her dog heart is content…

photo of thunderstorm
Photo by Rodrigo Souza on

why is lightning so fascinating ? the largeness of it? the semi magical seeming nature of it? the perceived and real danger? Even though we mostly know technically what lightning is… does that remove the wonder? not for me, maybe not for you. the rain is coming now, the breeze with subtle trumpets has announced, and you can hear the sheets creeping, falling, advancing, feet from me now, an errant drop scout here and there in my hair, I was facing the wrong direction, somehow, the rain snuck up on the rear while the light show distracted the front of house, nature, she has been at this a good deal longer than I, she will always have the upper hand no matter how smart I might project to be, the only question now is, how wet do I care to be? no soak tonight, I casually stroll back to my door as it now really cracks the sky to pour, I hear the symphony of downward water pounding on the leaves, increasing, I call out to sam to “come inside”, she obliges, her little happy bouncing gate in stride, and back I go, the weight of the heat of the day lifted, I look forward to open skies in the morning.

(part of my porch series…)

a simple spring poem or two.

a simple spring poem or two.

photography of tree
Photo by gypsyugal on

written in traffic this morning, this week has been, ahem, arduous in terms of that, just simple things I saw in front of me, it brought me hope in a sense, I hope to share that with you…


on the fore –
the only tree
alight with green
is not a pine
has arrived


might I forgive
the architect
for placing
a pigeon
atop a highway light post
distinct profile
but not as impressive
as a falcon
or a hawk

notes… the second one is very ME specific, for some reason I am fixated on birds on lamp posts, I have noticed some birds of prey on them in recent years (and not previously), most birds of prey are super impressive animals really, they are much larger than common birds, at least in these parts, so the contrast is what I was going for here, pigeons are quite common, and not as regal as the top predator, sort of like comparing mullet to a great white, sure, at some level both have aesthetic beauty, but the whites are more impressive as they have barely any fear (besides killer whales, not to go all off tangent on you), anyway, pay attention to the world around, things are there to confound…

sunray across green grass field
Photo by Jonathan Petersson on

music ?!…

Soen – Rival

Started as a “side band” that wanted to experiment with “Tool” like music (treating Tool’s sound as a genre, interesting).  This is off the new album… and man it rules, well, at least to me.  Melodic and heavy… I would like to think I hit those notes as a person, probably not… but heck, why not dream while I’m still alive… let me know what you think, I can’t read minds you know (although I pretend)

click pause, see the amazing world around you…

click pause, see the amazing world around you…

female monarch butterfly perching on red petal flower
Photo by Tinthia Clemant on

I contemplate the beautiful fragility
of butterfly wings
upon such gale
stain glass beats
oscillate with silence
only spectacle
the dance of survival
spiral pageantry
of these so easily broken,
I think of the single snowflake
winding journey to the ground
to dissipate surely
into vapor
and once more rise then gather then fall
to travel the world over in many forms,
I stare at these last rays
bleeding bronze out from this day’s ending
I pause, for all these things
and the miracles contained
of bearing witness
in these soft moments
of my existence.

blank paper with pen and coffee cup on wood table
Photo by Kaboompics .com on

notes… written 4.18, last night was the first real spring rain, no, not technically but it was 70 degrees and the rain was a relief, almost clean, seemingly a hint of bleach as it gently made overlapping circles on the deck as I watched, the dog sniffing around her domain in the backyard, life is good, it beats the alternative, take a minute and breath, there is something wonderful within eye’s reach, the idea is to reach for it, I am guilty as any for forgetting this, trying to re-calibrate my noggin to ground myself in reality, I am here now, trying to enjoy the ride.

music… going soft acoustic instrumental (thanks to my bud Chris all those years ago for turning me on to this and Tori…)

William Ackerman – Sound of Wind Driven Rain

yeah, you probably never heard of him, he never got the complete adulation he richly deserved.

not haiku…

not haiku…

white paper
Photo by Pixabay on

forgive the reiteration, this disclaimer is for those unfamiliar (hello) with my particular iterations, I don’t like to write in form but I like the idea/feel of haiku as it were, so here are a couple of little observations (sort of) I wrote today, sometimes I just am in the mood to write this way, and so I do…

moon, phase
shadow, fog
night owl
who who

the calming sound
of my april bamboo
as the wind works through
and plays each leaf

no animals were harmed in the posting of this post, do not remove tag under penalty of law, only you can prevent forest fires… only you!

black and white keys music note
Photo by Pixabay on

musical choice for the evening… a unicorn, an albatross, a kakapo

Paradise Lost- Ordinary Days

This band has gone from doom/death metal to metal to electronica (here) and more… I dig that…

Thinking again… perched on my porch

Thinking again… perched on my porch

(a continuing series I call the “porch project”)

animal avian beak beautiful
Photo by Pixabay on

I sit out upon my porch, my usual place, do I wish to write about the birds, the coming spring, the buds on trees? I’m simply not in the mood, while all of those things are certainly true, instead, I close my eyes and imagine everything is slowly fading into nothing – revealing, phasing back to the way the world was, before this land was torn about and put upon, all to meet our needs as a species,  assigning and asserting our assumptions upon the landscape, but now, in this dream, I am sitting on a rock, viewing out upon a chain-o-never ending hills, golden grasses swaying in unison in the breeze, local fauna in all manners of splendor, maples and oaks left to roost in their own glory, a world certainly alive with the madness of squirrels and chipmunks, tides of birds flowing in and out of frame, deer in packs like herds roaming in thousands, lynx on the prowl in the shadows, and bears the kings of all they may see emerging from their winter burrows.

creek brook stream nature
Photo by Creative Vix on

I was digging once as a child, in the backyard, as children do, well, at least before smart phones, and came across what now I realize was clearly a river bed, perhaps river is a bit strong, but surely this was the work of water, perfectly smoothed rocks aligned in a basin, a sorted bed, harsh rock edges worn away by the constant water flowing over time, I even found a fossilized fish inside one of these rocks, so perhaps my (this) projection will not be historically accurate but no matter, this is a mental exercise not science or archaeology, I can put them away for today and dream, such as this, so I imagine this brook running through what was once (or now) my fence line, how the water must be clean and clear like the finest crystal in liquid form gleaming in the warming sun, yet ever cool fed by a natural spring, and this dream, there are no sounds here, for whatever reason I can only hear the visuals, the calming water, hypnotizing me, in this dream…
and with that, shatters, in comes actual sound to break this meditation, the gravely churn of a big wheel approaching, a car screaming down the street at speed for no reason, and the quibbling of the robin who was patrolling my lawn but had to run off across the way to avoid human interaction, sigh, at least for a moment, at least for a time, I lived in a dream of what once was, not that I mind the now but I certainly didn’t mind the escape. so I withdraw back inside and bid you a good night, my world, thank you.

and they come in pairs…

and they come in pairs…


(this is related to my previous post, quite by accident, or circumstance, or the whimsy of the muse) Oddly enough, as I woke this morning (better than the alternative), when I walked outside to observe my ‘get in the car go to work ritual’, there was a mad amount of noise afoot… crows, in trees on both sides of my street, so this wrote itself (I suppose I can take credit, the pen was in my hand, but sometimes it feels I am just a cosmic means to an end…)

a gathering of crows
in twin mirror treetops
bookend my block
angular shadows
pasted up against naked limbs
screaming, toasting, celebrating
I think of an irish wake
and then on a wink, on a wing
unison, sync, they fly away
on to the next barker’s perch