Tag: nature

A Summer Snowfall

There once was a young woman named Bega. She lived in England in a time before us, when the land stretched onwards for miles like a slow breath and the hills rolled quietly and the sea whispered its lullabies. She lived with her father amid tumbling hills and rumbling streams, where mountains touched the sky and valleys sank low.

As Forest

This was our territory once. Every lifetime our places and times of day diminish, but as long as food sources remain plentiful we will stay here and adapt — learning to cross carefully the hard grey roadways and the daylight hours, the noise and…

The Aegean and the Land

The warm air of the Aegean is a blanket wrapped around you. Life moves slowly and without any cares. Days stretch long like a yawn and nights are still and quiet. Here, in Greece, the heat of the day weighs your bones and makes your limbs heavy, pulling rest and sleep in to you naturally and peacefully. The ocean withdraws and then pushes forward to the land again and again like deep and dense breaths.

Daybook

abstract of yellow leaves and rippled water

Sunday — September clouds trail the hillsides, misty fingers and thighs Monday — pancakes a little burned, gold leaves spend all their luck on scent Tuesday — you, a splash of yellow – you, the sun in the brook, our legs twined like branches…

Grasmere

It is a place of dreams. It is a place of rolling hills and slow moving water, a sunken pocket of land where deer roam the open spaces and osprey soar the empty skies. The sky here travels high and wide like a long breath.

I wonder what you see…

#WonderFold is a monthly feature that includes a prompt-based writing challenge on the first Monday of every odd month, followed by the publication of a winning response the first Monday of the next even month. INVITATION: All art grows out of paying attention: in…

To Be Tacked On Corporate Doors

pelican flying in blue sky

A bird stands in heaven. Spring. Cold, still. Taking the day one sky at a time. How deep the beats of wings, how smooth the gusts that raise them. Beauty. Spring cold. The sky one day at a time. Beauty still. We humans belong…

Solstice Series: Winter Submissions Open

Solstice Series: Submit your winter entries of poetry, flash fiction, and mini essay for free.

If You Had Eyes

the bumpy texture of old stump pith

If you had eyes, you would stare slowly, very slowly, upwards at the many shades of green and the single blue. Even without eyes, you sense the blue and reach towards it. You expand in the warmth and drink in air and light. These…

Two Quatrains

oak leaves swirling in black water beneath a dam

Galley The oak sails before the wind, going nowhere. Its first autumn leaf picks the lock on its manacles, escapes: One more illusion of freedom.   Lauds (2) A penitent crow puffs up and shudders, lifts his wings as the sun rises, letting light…