Tuesday, October 22, 2013
Monday, October 14, 2013
Friday, October 11, 2013
A few days a year, I get to take my studio outside. Yesterday was Autumn perfect. The river birch tree is turning; I set up right under it and scratched at a squirrel illustration. The cats found me. One of them wedged herself between my back and the back of the chair. It was me and the radio and a cup of tea and a warm afternoon and doing what I love to do.
Friday, October 4, 2013
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
A little poem formed yesterday. As autumn becomes more pronounced, I think of that sweet melancholy often associated with this time of year.
Descent of the Bumblebee
Late slant of autumn sunlight
catches you browsing the last summer flavors.
Striped plush on banded armor,
your finely-tuned hoverings maneuver between goldenrod,
prairie jewel and the meager remains of Veronica.
Still robust and agile, your weight bows down each bloom.
Soon, I will find you, some cool, near-frost morning,
nestled in the petals of your final gathering place,
close to deep slumber but not quite,
perhaps already in Dreamtime.
And I will mourn your descent as much as any living thing.
But for now let me dwell on this warm moment,
full of lavender and light,
lifting yourself off
towards that next season.
- ► 2014 (48)
- ▼ October (7)
- ► 2012 (75)
- ► 2011 (91)
- ► 2010 (53)