Algal layers of rock
Pillars of change
Rising from acid reduction
And nitrogenous seep
Busy bellows of corruption
Poisoning earth
With what rusts
From saline retreats
Tilted engines of life
For the record, the riddle
Marching on a muddled shore
Squat and stony muses
Of marvel and breath
In this weathered, easy air
A brief storm tested the dove nest today. Lots of lightning and thunder, but very little wind and only a modest amount of rain. No damage to report, despite the ominous looking clouds. (Photos taken on iPhone and adjusted with the Photoshop Express application.)
There’s nothing newsworthy about doves on the roof. And, as much as I hate to admit it, a gutter full of twigs is not unusual, either.
However, in this instance the two are related.
It wouldn’t be my first choice, were I seeking a place to nest, but she seems content.
Fortunately, this part of the roof doesn’t drain much. As long as we don’t get any tropical storms, the nest should be safe.
Another rainy day and another video from the summer archives. (I blame the rain, but it’s not the rain’s fault. Even if it does make me so sleepy I can hardly think.)
This video has a little history. In the process of identifying the caterpillar, I contacted our local wildlife columnist. She included one of my pictures in her column and published a follow-up column after another reader reported being stung.
You must enter the dream
Like a rose petal unfolding
At midnight
Making no sound
And appearing not to move
The journey that is not a journey
Begins and ends on a rose petal
Unfolding
The rose has grown wild
Against a broken trellis
And an abandoned house
That sags with absence
This dream place would be barren
But for the rose
Petal unfolding
Grown wild against silence
Which you cannot break
Even if you could be heard
And what you will not say
Is all that remains of this house
The house of things you’ve known
The rose petal
Unfolding at midnight
Is why you have come
Not the broken window
Which allows time to seep
In and out of absence
Curling over and through
And past
You must exit the dream
You have seen enough
Been enough alone
Unable to start or end
The journey that is not a journey
While you were dreaming
The rose petal unfolded
Though neither of you moved
Rae Spencer 