Showing posts with label snowstorm. Show all posts
Showing posts with label snowstorm. Show all posts

Thursday, March 8, 2018

March 8: Snowdrop

under all that fresh snow
first tendrils of snowdrops
that had just appeared

Wednesday, March 7, 2018

March 7: Winter travel

change of plans
single crow on a bare branch
under falling snow

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

February 7: Symphony No. 25

First flakes start to fall.
Mozart symphony playing
while the cat sleeps on.

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

January 30: Snowing

Swirling snow—
only the undaunted crows
remain visible.

Friday, January 5, 2018

January 5: Finches at the feeder

Eleventh day of Christmas—
snowstorm gave to me
two finches feeding.

Monday, December 25, 2017

December 25: Watching starlings in a snowstorm

Christmas morning.
Starling on a windowsill
eating windblown snow.

Friday, December 22, 2017

December 22: Feeder watch

Snow begins to fall.
As many juncos as flakes
under the feeders. 

Sunday, December 10, 2017

December 10: After the storm

Echoes of last night’s storm—
laden branches letting loose
small clouds of snow.

Saturday, December 9, 2017

December 9: Snowstorm

Shadow government.
Three crows flying
in a city snowstorm.

Wednesday, March 15, 2017

March 15: After the storm

paths shoveled in snow
to what matters most:
car, shed, birdfeeder, mailbox.

Tuesday, March 14, 2017

March 14: Snow Day

reading about Tibet
deep rumble of snow plow
the old gods

Monday, February 13, 2017

February 13: Blizzard

Snowed in all day
focus narrowed to one book
I read a woman's life.
 
(Highly recommend Megan Marshall's new biography of Elizabeth Bishop: A MIRACLE FOR BREAKFAST.)
 

Sunday, February 12, 2017

February 12: Storm Warning

Swarms of robins
storming the crabapple tree
ahead of the blizzard.

Friday, February 10, 2017

February 10: Before dawn

After the storm
trees cast long shadows on snow
under the setting moon.

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Saturday, December 17, 2016

December 17: O Tannenbaum

Snow falling all day.
After selling Christmas trees
my gloves smell like sap.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

December 8: Driving home

After the snow squall clears--
suddenly, Orion
over the white fields.

Saturday, February 13, 2016

February 13: Snow day

Ten degrees, wind howling.
Curled up with a book
on the Salem witch trials.

Friday, February 5, 2016

February 5: In the bleak midwinter

wet snow falling heavy
unexpected
grief of one loss, another
 

Thursday, February 19, 2015

February 19: Happy hour

Before dinner with friends--
a strong drink shared with you,
snow falling, streetlights.