A flock of geese leave their lake and take wing, turning to poems in the sky. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
Indigo shadows encourage tantalizing gossip in an orchard, while a tall redwood throws poems on the forest floor. The nightlife of trees. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
Some days, we just need to turn the quiet up. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
Invite your melancholy outside for a walk. Or read it a poem. Or bake it chocolate chip cookies. – Dr.SunWolf, professorsunwolf.com
The crow in his purity I believe is seen and heard only in the North. Before you reach the Potomac there is an infusion of a weaker element, the fish-crow, whose helpless feminine call contrasts strongly with the hearty masculine caw of the original Simon. – John Burroughs, “Winter Sunshine”