Dear Rowan

A birthday present
after ten years a grown-up.
An old man's delight.

Cui bono?

As so often, my heart it cries.

One apple

. . . a day . . .

Endgame

It's . . .

. . . over.

Friday is Skyday

Fiery.

On the Road

Chimneys

. . .

Augury

The more berries on the rowan 
the harder the winter will become.
At least "they" say so.

October's near

Still some pleasure for the eyes here and there.

Man of La Mancha

Friday is Skyday

Watching . . .

Tree of Imagination

The tree which moves some to tears of joy
is in the eyes of others only a green thing
that stands in the way. 
Some see nature all ridicule and deformity...
and some scarce see nature at all.
But to the eyes of the man of imagination,
nature is imagination itself. William Blake

 

Lazy Sunday Afternoon