The Big Backyard

These are the days when warmth is uncanny and green persists. The songbirds have left only the wind singing through the green. It’s time for …

Everything seems solid now, but the evidence is still here below the rumpled surface: an unknown creature appeared at dusk, made a transit across a …

They grow like reverse weeds, tiny and fragile and only a little bit cold.  They’ll feed on snow, transformed by cold nights and sunny days …

A forest on a mountaintop, sheer cliffs of dizzying heights set in a sea of brown and curling waves.  We can hardly see the stars …

Another artefact, cracked and moss-covered, lies damply beside the brook.  There is a iron-mine of rusting garbage in this spot, along with still-recognizable household items …

They aren’t wild apples; once, this was a field or an orchard, and a human hand planted this tree.  Now, alders and hawthorn grow up …

There’s something about finding a single wild strawberry in autumn, ripe for eating.  It’s a late bloomer, a tortoise, a valiant effort, a Rocky, an …

The path is so overgrown that I have to cut my way through with long-handled pruning shears.  When I look up, an abandoned nest is …

Overnight, a small pond has been transformed into a large one.  Trees stand knee-deep in water, unable to wade to higher ground.  This slow drowning …

A hawk’s feather lies along the path.  I stop to examine it, look carefully around to see if there are any others hidden among the …