The air bites, sharp as Winter's kiss. But wait: Geese will arrive, necks stretched, wings spread, pulling a softer wind to wrap our fresh-bared skin. ____________________
Spring Equinox, gone - Summer Solstice, scant days past. Now the goodbyes start.
March lies covered under thick snow. Brown leaves have clung all winter to the stunted oak, rustling loudly as bitter wind drives across the tundra of the yard. They will fall in spring. Any day now, by the calendar. The hare's prints trace her hunt for any not-yet-gnawed shoots above the waist-deep drifts. We all … Continue reading Common magic