Simple Spring Storm

An urge to step out into the night

Watching lace curtains of crystals fall through the street light

Beginning to wrap the tops of the spider leg branches

Covering the walkway with a wet sheen reflecting the glow

Hiding in the dark void, a comforter of white billows over the ground

Adding scattered starry sparkles that have fallen from above

The thin opening in the front window pulls cool breezes inside

To the accompaniment of an occasional slushy traveler on the street

Not the harshness of winter’s voice and frigid wrap

Just a simple spring storm, led by gentle drops that became crystal wings

Spinning toward the ground beneath the black gray abyss above.

I'm dreaming....

Beginning to look a lot like Christmas?

Not from my point of view... yes the tree is up and decorated and various Christmasy dust collectors have been scattered around the house.... the neighborhood houses have their lights strung and lit - emitting glorious colors from trees n eves n roof tops.

Presents have been tucked into secretive places throughout the houses or adorned with festive colored paper and ribbon and bows and placed under the tree...

Seasonal cookies and cakes n candies galore fill dishes and bowls and trays....

But where is the snow?

That glorious blanket of white crystals scattered across the landscape?

Reflecting the sun's radiance during the day and the multitude of colored lights in the night?

Where are the drifts and banks piled high beside the drives and sidewalks?

Where are the awkwardly built but so cute snowmen made from three high stacks of roundish shapes of glittering icy crystals?

Precarious shaped walls for protection and mounds of snowballs ready for launch?

No where to be found...

and not a thing to be done about it!?!

Yes I know the stats, we "rarely" have a white Christmas... here in Ski country

But still one can dream....

Sing it Bing!

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten and children listen

to hear sleigh bells in the snow

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

just like the ones I used to know

Where the treetops glisten and children listen

to hear sleigh bells in the snow

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

with every Christmas card I write

May your days be merry and bright,

and may all your Christmases be white

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

just like the ones I used to know

May your days be merry and bright,

and may all your Christmases be white

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas,

with every Christmas card I write

May your days be merry and bright,

and may all your Christmases be white

May your days be merry and bright,

and may all your Christmases be white!!!!!!!!

Just dreamin...

Leftover Thoughts

Just a couple of leftover thoughts taking up space. Spring is near, thought I'd clear out the wintry words in hopes of replacing them with new, vibrant, colorful and warmer musings... 

One Saturday Morning
Golden colors hanging precariously in the cool morning Rays of light have lost their strength, barely warming the air
The stillness broken by flashes of movement and chatter in the dark limbs above,
A smoky flavor drifts on the nearly still autumn dawn.
Hints of white rest in the early morning shadows
Sheets of translucent crystals wrap the fallen leaves masking their colors
Waiting precariously for the warming shafts of light, they will eventually melt away to reform in the cold night air into new designs and patterns.


Flat dull grey skies have suddenly stolen the morning light, The bright sharpness of a new day blurred into a near monochrome,
The air is cold and uninviting…
Block the muted morning with a nest of warm folds and a soft pillow, try to reclaim your last dream if only for a few more moments…

A band of brilliance cuts its way across the room from a break in the curtains, struggling to light the room and bring in the new day,
The blurred shroud of sleep begins to slip away, replaced too quickly by the day’s agenda
The cat rolls over, protected by the folds of the bedding, hiding from the increasing intensity as you're forced to gradually emerge to meet the morning…


Out the front window...
Just stepped outside for a few minutes to watch the display of snow flakes.. something is so intriguing to me about the way mother nature works. The physics of it all I understand, it is the beauty, the aura, the presence that exists surrounding the event. Sure we can pump water through jets and "make" snow... but not nature's crystals...
Beyond that is the quiet, the solitude that seems to accompany them as if to eliminate any distractions and concentrate your perception, your feelings on the fall of the flakes through the crisp cold air.
Taken in small amounts there are no fears, increase the velocity of the wind, the volume of the crystals, the colder temperatures and the power emerges causing some to panic...
Yet I could stand in the onslaught and be simply over whelmed by the power - not fear it but begin to realize how dynamic, how important the event and how miniscule, how small a part I have in the scheme of things... 

Just a thought seeping out

Sunday morning Out the Front Window

It’s nearly the middle of the morning, brilliant sunshine and pale blue skies have brought on the day. Lost in the morning activities the changes outside catch your eye; it’s time to relax for a few moments and gaze out the front window. The thick blanket of white that covers the front yard is beginning to sink to the contour of the earth.

The grayish planks of the front walk are dry; the tumbled stacks of snow along its edges seem to guard the corridors of passage. Icicles hanging from the eves reflect the sun from their frozen crystal shapes while a constant flow of droplets begin to fall from their sharp tips.

The air is clean, crisp, no longer the harsh stinging cold that revealed your breath hours earlier. The radiance of the sun warms the south facing surfaces while the shadows hold on to the chill of the winter day.

Images of winters long gone by slip silently into your mind. Snow ball fights with your brothers, lopsided snowmen sentinels built with leather mittens, ruddy red cheeks and dripping noses, admonishments for tracking snow across the carpet. The acrid flavor of your coffee momentarily changes to a sweet chocolate taste. The urge to abandon the morning chores and step outside to play grows inside; soon to be subdued by more mature impulses.

Turning from the window you leave the enticements behind with a shrug, in favor of more noble behavior…

Winter Day Outside

It’s a truly winter day out the front window.
The afternoon air is frigid, the landscape lifeless and uninviting. The sky above is covered by a dull grey layer without even a hint of the sun. Off in the distance small scraps of washed out blue teasingly rest along the horizon.

Abruptly the wind intensifies and the marbled grey sky turns darker, heavier and ominous. Quickly hordes of primal crystals fill the air, stampeded along by the frozen air currents. The nearly blinding mass is made of small, agile, pellet like flakes that rush their way to the ground. Spun and jumbled, scattered seemingly without purpose they quickly cover the freezing earth.

Menacingly the storm builds, forcing a feeling of gloom and forewarning. Now the air is filled with the small hardened shapes dancing in all directions. The arrogant squall of winter weather eventually marches on, leaving its remnants behind as a display of its dominance.

No gentle fall of fluffy crystals, no hope of gathering handfuls for play, no brilliant sunshine in its wake. Just the raw cold power of a bleak and forbidding nature, leaving an inhospitable and desolate feeling behind.

Turn from the window with a shudder in search of warmth and security, surely the sun will shine tomorrow?!?

December 23rd

The daylight is waning; the perception of warmth is dying with it
Stalactites seem to hang precariously from the edge of the roof
Their incessant dripping halted for the next few hours of darkness
While the craters in the snow beneath them form crystallized cups
Eager to hold the next day’s catch, liquefied by the sun’s radiance
Snow still covers the ground, now in a dusky yellow-grey color
Mimicking the diluted palate that veils the western edges of the sky
The dark scraggy branches of the trees dissolve into the murkiness above
Soon points of light begin to appear scattered loosely across the heavens
Then filling the void between them countless smaller specks come alive
The night sky glimmers and glitters like snowflakes in the moonlight
Turning from the front window the flickering Christmas candles and lights replace the stars
Filling the room with fragrances of pine and cinnamon while tinsel sparkles amidst the needles
Warming the room while foretelling the coming holiday celebration

Embroidered Crystals

Embroidered crystals pin wheeling their way through the cold night air

Lit by the glow of the street lamp

Eventually finding their way to a resting place

To lie down delicately as their structures entwine forming a blanket of dull white

Then suddenly reflecting the dim light in sharp flecks of icy sparkles

Stepping out beyond the front window to sense their grandeur

Frigid air grabs at your every breath and exposed flesh

But it pales in the presence of the fragile flakes covering the world around you

Hordes of elusive specks blurred by the wind swirl to their destinations

Some to remain to see morning’s light

Others to be gathered up again by the invisible currents and sent sailing away

What grand mechanism, what scheme, what power is responsible?

Humbling to realize the mastery it would take to create this wonder

Each small piece different yet alike in many ways

All fitting into a grand design, a precarious display of strength and invention

Never to be claimed, never to be duplicated, never to be accomplished by man

Embroidered crystals pin wheeling their way through the cold night air….