…and this storm did, indeed, herald the coming rain. 🙂
Category: Art
Haiku: Morning Impressions
I find the different textures and the fleeting nature of the wet prints in the photo particularly appealing. I hope you do, as well.
Are you interested in the backstory or do you prefer to imagine it? Let me know in the comments!
Musings: Let The Weeds Grow!
As the weather’s grown cooler here, I wonder how long the butterflies and bees will be around. Few flowers still remain, mostly what people would consider to be “weeds”, like thistle and a low-growing bush with miniscule white flowers. Pesky to some, these are important food sources for pollinators.
Haiku: Dirty Girls
After a light rainfall, the girls were enthusiastically dustbathing, and it was such fun to watch. They dug into the dirt – still fairly dry from the drought – and covered themselves, kicking up their feet and flapping their wings. If I had to describe it in one word, it would be happy – dustbathing chickens are happy chickens!
More chicken happiness:
If only we could all be so easily amused. 🙂
Haiku: Set Adrift
Poem: Goodbye, Bees
What will the world be like
When there are no more bees, trees, or frogs?
When scorched earth is our reality
And we breathe in choking smog?
We continue to generate scads of plastic waste
Build mansions of questionable taste
Kill off species at a unimaginable pace –
Are we proud we’ve trashed this place?
What awaits our children now?
Are clear blue skies and lakes unicorns?
Are we considering the future for mankind
As even more of us are born?
I asked you to recycle your plastic
And put your cardboard in the nearby bin
You laughed at me for having asked it,
And I knew, sadly, that I would not win.
There just aren’t enough who care
Plenty who talk the talk but won’t walk the walk
And plenty who are aware
And deluding themselves about this epoch:
Glaciers melting, record heat,
Dirty air, algal blooms, CAFO meat,
Tech “reality,”, rainforest burning…
But the world keeps turning.
Right?
For those who refuse to accept
What’s in front of their faces
Soon, differences won’t matter,
Like political affiliations, religions, races…
We’ll be struggling to survive
On the world we’ve taken for granted
And abused, neglected, and plundered
And we’ll reap the terrible harvest we’ve planted –
Because not enough of us care, you see,
About anything other than “me”,
Even though the world must operate as “we”…
And so much depends on the flight of the bee.