Words, Feelings, Stories

İ came outside to enjoy the pleasant night, and hoping to perhaps see some of the fireworks I can hear so clearly. As i step out my door, and sit in my chair, I see, just above the treeline, the crescent moon. İ hear the pops and the bangs and the booms from all sides. İt sounds as if the village of Bethel is reenacting war between the north and south, with occasional rat-a-tats rat-a-tats from the 'far' east. All the way down the hill maybe. İ see no flashes of light from any of these noises, not even the ones that rattle my window glass. Through all the noise, the moon remains. Patient, waiting, silent. There. And the night is blessed

I hear the peepers tonight, and the little green frogs that hide in the grass, and the groggy frogs from the flat topped roofs across the street. In the trees between the main street houses and the Union St houses I hear many chattering insects. It sounds as if the treetops may be being used as pillows by an invisible giant. While he may not be seen, he can certainly be heard. He is snoring, and the sound is reverberated through the treetops. I don't know if it's different species of cicadas, or different sexes, but one group is the murmuring breath in, and then I hear the buzzing exhale until it finally peters out. The quiet mumble again, and then the loud breathy buzz. It may be that there are Other insects - grasshoppers, katydids, mantises - that I no longer recognize easily. Bats are zipping and dipping around, as fast as a blink. Black shadow's against an orange sky. Occasionally two will dance together for a moment before vanishing. Yes, nightfall is a ...

It's been a grayish rainish day today and now that night is creeping in, the sunlight has taken on a misty mystic haze of almost-but-not-quite-a-rainbow light. The air glows like golden dust. The sun is behind the trees now. The trees are haloed in the diffused light. Not quite colors quiver as leaves tremble. Along the alley, a long lazy ray of white light makes its way down the pavement, perfectly placed evenly with the edges. At those edges, where the light meets the grass, the color blossoms into golden fizz, dancing above the ground. I reach for my phone, my only camera, and try to capture this ethereal moment that was already fading. I cannot, of course. The magic is beyond both my skill and the phone cameras abilities. I hope my words have helped you to see it. A slice of time such as this is meant to be shared,and i am sharing it with you.

It's an eerie night out here tonight on my porch. The frogs are there, and The crickets, and the locusts, but there's something different. The night sky glowers pink-orange. . Not really strange, because there are pink street lights beyond The trees, but it's not The usual color, even when clouds are hanging low. There are strange Shadows flickering throughout the yard. In the flower beds right in front of me. Along the front of the building on the left side of the yard. On The cars in The parking lot to my right. The Shadow's wander The alley and appear from behind and alongside the houses. They peek. They scamper. They scurry from here to there. Lights and reflections wink and blink. Things move. Things rock, wiggle, twitch. The wind blows gently but not unusually. It seems a night like many others. And yet. The night choir sings on and on. The pink sky outlines the trees clearly. And Shadows creep across the street and dart through the yard. It may be The...

The push begins from deep within The bands begin to tighten Pushing in and shoving out Throbbing with each breath It grows with sound and sight and light And heartbeats make it quicken The headache from hell Is really doing well Like the parasite it is It grows and devours All my waking hours And makes me quite a drag. Useless gutless log of pain Wondering when it all will end Wondering what relief is And where and why is it not mine? Day three this week and no end in sight Migraine my pain my life