dogtrax

Each lotus flower — beautifully resilient — always finds its way

Early evening rain, and we're leaning our heads back to sip from the sky

Butterflies flutter along the meadow flowers: a chaotic arc

A stone of black ink, rubbed smooth by ocean currents: the beach as artist

Cold night explosion: the watermelon busts loose, making us a mess

Ordinary musique; a chamber of melody - the sound of something fierce

for DS106 Daily Create

It takes quiet, doesn't it, to notice the lone leaf, dropping?

The way it swoops its way downward, taking its time dancing on the currents

This, the first sign of summer ending, signaling something to a sleepy world

for #openwrite

Blink once; flowers bloom; we're sitting inside the room, just weather-guessing

for Algot

We thought it was surprise snow, in June, in middle America, because we were young and didn't know any better, the two of us, barely still boys, in that old Buick, barreling back to New England, from Madison, the mission to Wisconsin to woo her back, a failed one, but still, a college break adventure, and it was a swarm of bugs, not flakes, a night cloud of them knocking glass and waking us up so fully with surprise we finally laughed at it all, and that's what we still remember the most: the storm of insects clouding our view as we drove east, back towards home

for #openwrite

Deception, then: this morning's quiet is anything but, as I listen more closely, to hear:

the high frequency hum of the fridge the punctuated sound of the sump pump the whooshing of dehumidifier, cycling on/off the singing of birds through an open window the long sigh of the dog stretching on the couch the lone car, decelerating, a voice on radio the daily newspaper landing on driveway

I sit, sip and write

for #DS106 Daily Create