dogtrax

Constellation night; the stars as stories, lit up against the deep dark

Prints left in the snow - the hare goes where it will go - to where, I don't know

Straddling seasons like a kid on a see-saw; the Spring equinox

A spring-time snow squall drops white on green, as flowers fold in on themselves

A mad rush at dusk, the swallows never stop to sing with dinner, flying

Sending a message to Spring, the crocus will sing colorful glory

A breeze so gusty, it pulls the pants off the man standing as scarecrow

Maybe it's not here - not in this time or this place; still, it's worth the search

A full moon's shadow skirting along the treetops as we watch below

An azalea before bloom: a skeleton shaped in twisted sticks