Their Gold

“Surrender” Only small pockets of aspens hold out with their gold. But my heart surrenders to fall with the warmth of the wood burning stove. I paint Remembering the colors of fall when grief blinded me. I paint To take in what I missed. I paint their gold. “Their Gold” and “Hold Out” Plein Air Painting on Mill Creek Road Continue reading Their Gold

The Last of the Asters

The last of the asters bloom All but spent. It’s been happening too fast Since… The oaks were brilliant As they surrendered to fall But I can hardly remember. The aspens were brilliant But I wasn’t ready to see them turn. I try to take in the waning warmth Left in fall Since, Snow dusted peaks warn. But the present is lost Since, Our Goodbye. … Continue reading The Last of the Asters

Denali in the Storm

With adaptive grace, plenty of hay and a thick mustang coat, she wintered well. She didn’t fuss. She did, however, station herself, on a hill, thick oak brush guarding her rear. I’d follow her gaze over a couple of miles, over the neighbor’s hay meadow and up and over a steep hill, where a small band of Clydesdales wintered. Whenever a storm threatened, she’d head … Continue reading Denali in the Storm