Thin fog/low clouds. It feels as if rain could start at any moment but does not. A Carolina wren nearly drowns out the sound of traffic.
December 2022
December 6, 2022
In the cold drizzle, a squirrel looks less gray than silver, shining dully as she crouches under the fur umbrella of her tail.
December 5, 2022
Cold and still. Dove wings accompany a train whistle. A red sunrise creeps down the western ridge.
December 4, 2022
Still haunted by dreams I can’t remember when the sun clears the ridge and sets the clouds of my breath aglow.
December 3, 2022
Cold rain. Four chickadees in a high-speed chase around the yard pause in the lilac for a vociferous exchange of views.
December 2, 2022
The frosted meadow glitters in the sun. A scrabbling of squirrel claws on bark. Off to the south, a raven croaks; to the north, crows.
December 1, 2022
Treetops rock and sway in the wind—a restive mountainside. A few snowflakes fly this way and that.