Monday, March 28, 2011

the peepers

The peepers sing,
in the dusk.
      Out of the mud,
       Their song drifts
        Sweet and green.

                                       -Kathleen Tenepas-

Actually, the month-long, haunting song of the peepers has ended, and I am missing it. But the girls find them skitting across the shallow creeks beds, ready to make acquaintance.

at home on Thursday

Early morning walk in the swirling snow down to the creek bed. This American Beech tree  rightfully observed, glorious in its sober cinnamon...