i am afraid the sun will not burn through, the leaves are laden with moisture. The slightest breeze sends a cascade of liquid crystals spilling... Read More0
Hmmm! I’ve learned not to poke my fingertips with sharply cut (functions as needle and thread) baling wire. Occasionally I have forgotten and must relearn.... Read More0
She’ll stream down from the roof tops of the forest high, where the light streams in. Spreading out, funnel-like, she will spill down across the... Read More0
The morning, dripping with dew as each web is respun.The slightest of wisps softly lifts from the surface as the sun clears a crystal path... Read More0
Still slick with what she spilled during her rumble… …magnificent and slightly frightening things catch my eye as I wandered back down to my work... Read More0
Where is it that I dwell? The gift of this place and time overwhelms my physical senses–the drifting scent of the forest floor, the songs... Read More0