Forest Photo

I had nothing to publish on this Wednesday morning. Sitting in my favorite chair with a cup of peppermint tea in hand, I was stymied. As is the norm these days, the television news was depressing, so I turned off the tv and looked out the windows onto our back yard that slopes down to a small lake.

Seemingly overnight the leaves had overwhelmed the green grass resulting in a carpet of fall colors. Now I’m thinking about putting on a hoody and some boots for some serious leaf crunching. I’m sure Studly Doright would appreciate it if I did some raking while I’m out there, too.

Forest Storm

Skies darken, winds howl

Acorns fall before raindrops

Squirrels take cover

Deep blue framed window

Mute witness across the lake

Watch the storm with me

Thunder fills the gap

After expectant silence

Lightning left behind

I sat on the screened in porch yesterday afternoon as a storm moved in over the lake. The blue window in the middle picture took on the appearance of a face when I looked at it closely. Then, the bottom photo has a somewhat sinister appearance. See if you can find what I’m talking about. It freaked me out a bit.

Oh, and as I finished typing that last bit we had a very close lightning strike followed by an instant house-rattling clap of thunder. Scout (our cat) and I made a hasty retreat into the house. Whew!

Peace, people!

Stalker

I took the Texas grandkids to the Tallahassee Museum today to check out the tree to tree adventures and the resident animals. Unfortunately Jackson wasn't tall enough to tackle the challenge he'd set his heart on, so we just concentrated on the animals instead.


Broken hearted kid^^^

Dominique was more enthusiastic about walking through the exhibits than her brother:

And the only way I could get a photo of both of them in the same shot was from a distance:

We did pick up a strange stalker on our visit.

There's nothing like being stalked by a vulture to make you wonder if there is something he knows about the impending future.

This little museum is a wonderful slice of Florida.

I Wish You Could Know This Day (For My Dad)

I Wish You Could Have Known This Day by Leslie Noyes 

I wish you could have known this day, green life yearning up through the earth, bright warmth bearing 

Down from the sky. The warning screech of a protective mother guarding her threatened nest 

Upstaging a chorus of cicadas running through their limited range of vocal exercises. A pair of 

Cardinals flirting outrageously, too caught up in their dance to worry about me. How I wish you were here.

We talk about how much you’d have loved this place. I can picture you scolding the squirrels, even as

You throw tidbits of your breakfast to them.    You’d have sat on the porch, smoking and chatting up the

Neighbors. You remembered first names. 

What Does the Fox Say?

                     What Does the Fox Say? 

Apparently this one just said, Zzzzzzzzz! I discovered the gray fox at the Tallahassee Museum Thursday morning, as he indulged in a nap while nestled in the fork of a tree.

 
To be honest, I didn’t see him, so well did he blend with his surroundings, until a little girl pointed him out to her grandparents, and I was lucky enough to benefit from her sharp eyes.

Below is the photo before I edited it to make Mr. Fox more visible. He was well camouflaged, eh?

 
I’ll post more from the museum over the next two weeks.