Yesterday we drove to southern Maine for some birding. Something about moving through the landscape never fails to provide inspiration.
Old snow encrusting the fields retains the patterns of a winter's worth of snow-sledding:
Snowmobile trails criss-crossing--
Celtic knots
a spell to unlock spring.
From East Point Sanctuary in Biddeford Pool, in southern Maine, looking west over water, stone, and beach, we could see the White Mountains looming sharp, clear, and snow-covered on the horizon.
White Mountains shimmer--
clinging specter of winter
on the distant horizon.
Monday, March 30, 2015
March 30: Oh the prolonged yearning that spring in Maine provokes
Labels:
driving,
endless winter,
haiku,
is it spring yet,
melting snow,
White Mountains
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