Today, I walk in a sapphire sphere. Under a brilliant, crystal sky. The air a clear shatter of light. Everything is etched upon this canvas. My dictionary app defines “etched” as: 1) to outline clearly or sharply; delineate; 2) to fix permanently in or implant firmly on the mind; root in memory; 3) to cut (a feature) into the surface of the earth by means of erosion. But, when I think of etched, I think of a picture scratched in black and white onto a hard surface. Each line is embedded into the surface. No ink floating on the surface…
Category: Horses
Books & Words II
Childhood Unboxed My left hand held a small leather bound book open across my knee as my pencil transcribed thoughts in fuzzy grey marks. Rustle, rustle, rustle. The pencil spoke to the paper as it skipped along. Not having much choice, the paper agreed to the pencil’s rhetoric. The paper, off-white and lined, fluttered in the breeze. My left hand clamped it down so the pencil could finish a word. I sat on a sun-warmed, charcoal grey, lichen spotted rock on a steep hillside. The hillside was dotted with juniper trees. Bluebirds flitted amongst them. Late afternoon sunlight slanted through…
Alive
In a thicket of thorn apple trees, a single tree-twig of a chokecherry tree unfurled its leaves. The first leaves I have seen this spring! They are green and rimmed with red. This little twig-tree, as tall as a medium sized cat, stands proud, there in its little clearing. After the long winter we’ve had in north central Montana, this little twig-tree is a sight for sore eyes, indeed. Winter has ended (I hope), and spring begun all in one day, it seems. Snow banks still hang out in the low places where snow piled up deep. The land looks…