



–photos by me




–photos by me
respect the aged
listen to their old stories
as if they were new
they can still teach us something–
even if it’s just patience

To flying bugs and crawling ants,
A bright bouquet of pitcher plants
Becomes a water park with rides–
They can’t resist the slippery slides!
And once inside the saccules,
They’re trapped and drown in nectar pools.
And no, I’m not being frivolous–
This water park’s carnivorous!
–Photo by me

“Tried my hand at Halloween Dinner.”
–Photo by me

perched atop the towering trees
or gliding o’er the sylvan glade,
all movement of the grass he sees–
e’en a single blade
–photo by me

trains are drama queens–
ecstatic when approaching,
sooooo sad when leaving
–photo by me

one night of the year
we mask our fears by making
light of the darkness
–photo by me

I took a drive through a wind farm in North Dakota on Sunday, and was shocked at the forest of massive, whirling turbines spread across the land. Besides being an obvious eyesore on our amber waves of grain, a little research yielded mostly negative opinions about them. Many would like to sell their homes and move, but the value of their property has diminished appreciably.
They may look slow and awkward, but the tips of the blades move at up to 180 mph, making a constant noise that some claim makes them sick. Maintenance is very costly, and I wonder if the small net gain in energy is worth destroying our landscapes. Here’s a quote by Frida Payle that sums it up:
“It’s like taking up smoking
Because you drink too much.
And now you’re a smoker
As well as a drinker.”

–Photos by me

There once was a partridge named Dwight
Who would always stand guard at first light;
To observe the whole flock,
He would climb a big rock–
For there wasn’t a pear tree in sight
–Photo by me
i’m sitting here watching a group
of both physically and mentally
challenged young children
sing their hearts out on one
of those talent shows on tv.
they get the golden buzzer,
and the audience explodes–
people are hugging each other,
mothers and fathers are crying,
and the children themselves
are beaming like sunlight
with honest-to-goodness
genuine happiness as they
dance around the stage.
tears run down my cheeks,
and for the moment, anyway,
i’m glad that i’m an empath.