A vague memory of hearing the foghorn in the night, and when I wake, the sky is white and Mount Battie's draped in mist.
Birch's yellow leaves glow
within the fog.
I wake slowly.
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A poet and naturalist tries to find poetry in every day
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Blog Archive
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2012
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October
(31)
- October 31: Halloween lights
- October 30: Flood
- October 29: Entrainment
- October 28: Late start
- October 27: Hunting season
- October 26: Guacamole
- October 25: Witch-hazel
- October 24: Moon over the bay
- October 23: Glow
- October 22: Getting something off my chest
- October 21: Chairlift ride
- October 20: Long walk
- October 19: Floating leaf
- October 18: Carrying eggs
- October 17: Quarry
- October 16: Last light
- October 15: Spray of sparrows
- October 14: Lost in a book
- October 13: Caterpillar
- October 12: Freeze warning
- October 11: Hard rain
- October 10: Toast
- October 9: Chrysanthemum
- October 8: Brussels sprouts
- October 7: Falling leaves
- October 6: Fog
- October 5: Nocturnal flight calls
- October 4: Geese overhead
- October 3: Window strike
- October 2: Sparrow
- October 1: Maple
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October
(31)
About Me
- Kristen Lindquist
- Camden, Maine
- I am a birder, poet, and writer most interested in animals, vegetables, and minerals, living in my hometown in Midcoast Maine.
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