My car thermometer read 4 degrees F when I left for an early morning meeting. I think it got up to 10 at its peak.
We move fast to stay warm,
our breathing visible,
our thoughts hidden.
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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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2013
(284)
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January
(30)
- January 31: Roar
- January 30: Budding
- January 29: Micro-moments
- January 28: Two goldfinches
- January 27: A little heat
- January 26: Roadside hawks
- January 25: Duck wing
- January 24: Another cold night
- January 23: 0 Degrees
- January 21: Gulls at the dump
- January 20: Blown by the wind
- January 19: The Men's Room
- January 18: Ducks flying upriver
- January 17: Before dawn
- January 16: Snow falls all day
- January 15: Nine squirrels
- January 14: Thaw
- January 13: Wet enough for a duck
- January 12: Scent of the sea
- January 11: Green
- January 10: Crows in the pines
- January 9: Rainy night
- January 8: Landslide
- January 7: Illumination
- January 6: Beach
- January 5: Flow
- January 4: Red-bellied Woodpecker
- January 3: Cold
- January 2: Flash Mob
- January 1, 2013: First birds
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January
(30)
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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