Slow and Steady

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We’ve had DAYS of rain!  Some of it has been harsh, but mostly it’s been slow and steady – the kind of rain that gives birth to new Spring growth. The grass and trees are no doubt the greenest green they will be for the rest of the year.

The rain has also produced an environment conducive to snails apparently, as I have seen a prolific number of them lately. Like a gentle rain, slow and steady describes a determined snail perfectly. I noticed this particular little guy yesterday as he started his journey from one side of the trail where I walked to the other.

When he first felt my presence, he receded into his shell, wary of the danger I might pose. He eventually sensed I meant him no harm and even let me photograph his trek across the pavement. I watched him for about 20 minutes, protecting him from certain death at the hands—I mean feet—of oblivious joggers who passed him by; so distracted were they by their headsets that surely they wouldn’t notice nature, let alone enjoy it.

I am grateful to have witnessed the triumphant progress of this strange little creature who carried his house on his back and moved at… wait for it… a snail’s pace!

For Ragtag Daily Prompt: Grateful

The Eve of Spring

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On the eve of Spring,

the earth is a dirty place!

A rowdy Fall seems to have

flung things here and there

and Winter stubbornly refused

to pick them up.

The result is a sad chaos

of decaying leaves, abandoned nests

and an impressive assortment of litter

from some drunken teenage party.

Twigs and broken branches

are strewn like tiny corpses

on the ground.

Emerging from the dead,

Spring instinctively will come

bringing with it

an elixir of cleansing rain.

Following the purge,

rejuvenation is conceived.

Every long-forgotten seed

soon starts to grow, and the

landscape will change

before our eyes.

But for now, trees bend

like little old men,

crippled by harsh winds

and the burden of snow.

From their stooped position,

they lift their weathered faces

toward the sun – as we all do,

on the eve of Spring.

 

Shifting Seasons – a poem

It’s the middle of a long hot summer where I live, but I have the changing seasons to look forward too! In a few months my morning walks will be gold instead of green.

 

SHIFTING SEASONS

Roses are drooping

Petals are falling

Ground is scorched by

the heat of the sun

 

Moon is waning

Stars are hiding

Eeriness conquers

the dark velvet skies

 

Summer is folding

Autumn is calling

Crisp, pretty leaves

now crunch at my feet

 

Storm is brewing

Cold is looming

Icy winds bite at

the innocent breeze

 

Color is fading

Nothing is growing

Dreary days plague us

as winter sets in

 

Air is warming

Snow is melting

Clouds weep with joy

for hope has returned

 

Green is bursting

Birds are chirping

Spring has arrived

all’s right with the world!