soft petals coarse leaves like sunbursts from a stem bold flowers clustered like friends reaching for the light in lazy summer heat and baked clay dirt the muddy backdrop of their triumph.
Thunderheads, a layer of paint on the sky’s canvas, are thick and unbroken. Like a handpainted bowl, the clouds are stripes around the horizon. The rich colors are the sloppy mixing of paints on a palette: bluestone to periwinkle, mauve to rose, all shot through with gold. The faintest white puffs float down to encircle… Continue reading Day 113: Springtime Stormy Sunset
How swiftly, how sweetly, the gull swoops through the starry sky. Over sands, over seas, over houses and trees, the gull wheels and dives. In sweeping turns, plunging falls, daring twists, it flirts with the waves- it is wild, it is free, this is for eternity, playing at the shore.
The air, the old wives say Fresh, clean air. It helps the children to run around. It has health benefits. She’s never really bought into that. Her pursuits are all better suited to the space between the covers of a book than to the spaces that stretch from horizon to horizon- where the dome of… Continue reading Day 59: Air
So, I wrote this post and published it last night on my phone, but instead of publishing my changes it deleted them and published just this blank title. Which makes me mad, because it makes it look like I didn’t keep my resolution, but I did! I promise. I’ve rewritten the first Description Wednesday below:… Continue reading Day 6: An Explanation and a Cold Winter’s Morning