Mists of morning...

For a time I lived by water, swayed by its moods, conversing with its murmurings, lulled to sleep by its waves. My conscious and unconscious evolution was a reason to land there and linger for some years before circumstance effected change. Though rustic and primitive, my cabin and its windows on the water had much to teach; I took each lesson to heart and the result was transformation.

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Feast (aros)

Red plumes.
Sunflower seeds snap in
yellow beaks.
Winter feast.

No comments:

Post a Comment