aurora borealis reprisal

 faded but discernible

because a repeated pattern

of the night before

brightening along the northern

pine tops, centered below

the north star as dusk sky

to the southeast

settles into indigo

gradually that northern glow

grow turquoise, then aquamarine

and haze lines, long in reaching

toward the zenith, become distinct

some carrying dull greenish tint

other rays blushing like youth

caught glancing toward a centerfold

but still able to protest

“No, Mom, I never saw anything – it

was just there.”

in awe watching

in awe watching a bobcat kit

even younger than my first

lynx rufus visitor was years ago

newly independent but already

patient watching, watching

but not still, he sits on haunches

bobbed tail barely behind him

floretted forelegs extended

under muscular shoulders

pointed ears erect over

squarish head turning as he

watches, surveys, twists, watches

and then—he is gone

so young, but knowing

how to hunt, he is gone

                 live reporting, mjNordgren  5/9/2024  N

watercolor storm sky

a watercolor storm sky

of billowing clouds of grays

agonized purple and yellow

tortured by erupting orange

from angry, mottled blues

edging toward precipitating

their slivers of ice and shafts

of slashing rain when placating

winds shift their proximity

allowing sunshine to mediate

the argument to tete-a tetes of spring

talk with birds

i wish i could talk with birds

that would make it easier to communicate, although hummers

do pretty well eyeball to eyeball

like the little Anna’s who chided

me through the window for allowing

the red, liquid treat to be depleted

or my zebra finch who patted

my hair as i reached into their cage

to give them fresh seed and water

or the snowy owl who watched me

standing in awe admiring him

and turned nearly full circle, posing

so i could have the full experience

of his splendor

or the osprey dad who glanced at me

as, worried, too, i watched

with him his oldest chick

gathering courage for its

first flight from the rugged nest high

on the platform of a utility pole

still, their plaintive cries or smiley

chirps and twitters leave me wondering

if their sounds mean to them what

their calls stir within my own emotions

i wish i were wise enough to understand

fauna symphony

cunning that the sounds birds

and animals trill or caw or rumble

are subtly attune in pitch and timing

to be heard by their own between

and among all the others

if we could detect flora communication

would it, too, be finely interwoven?

dawn directions

haiku

 brilliant pink-orange east

dawn reclaiming from gray mists

moving sunrise north

sounds of water

waves sweeping in for a bow

with quiet grace or flourish

shawl or cape whipped white

as raindrops splat on metal roof

or plummet onto furrowed earth

and trickle into gurgling rivulets

streaming toward roaring, gnashing

rivers to the sea to full circle

as pounding waves or lifted

by evaporation to cling to tiny particles

and fall again as rain

each role and costume enhanced

by sound that reach our souls

life above and below

haiku

giddy with whitecaps

wind-driven frenzied surface

hints of life below

pink-gold dawn

haiku

 pink-gold tinting grass

wrapping pigmented glory

of the very air

haiku

whitish night bird whirs

startlingly out of darkness

slow release of breath

gray haze

gray haze between the hills

spread out and lingering

as though reluctant to rise

until touched by dawn’s warmth

just before sunrise

haiku

frost-tipped dew whitens

marks grass, twig and leaf edges

clouds dull heavy gray

varied dawns

my panorama view across the valley

to the west hills affords me dawns

so varied, dull gray and vivid gold

and each gives me pause to be grateful

late January sunrise

the colors of dawn were even more vivid than i captured

white sky

white sky

limited vista

but the chickadees and wrens

find the bird seed tray

and intrepid workmen

find the downed lines

to restore electricity

my stars

so pretty, the brilliance hovering

above the town in the valley

so sad, the light pollution hovering

over the town in the valley

weight of time and ice

 weight of time and ice

grinding pebbles into granite

creating geo-scape artistry

on greater-than-human scale

Text & Images Template (Copy) (Copy)

 light snow at 32 degrees

at 34, snow-rain that then freezes

to ice what has already fallen onto

our hill, a paved logging road

with impossible slopes even 4-wheel

drive and chains find challenging

so i’ve been writing and reading

wrapped up in fluffed blankets

huddled in my home living on

canned goods and fruit stocked

up a week ago at meteorologists’

warnings of severe winter storms

a new, limited lifestyle that calls

from within me a rare perspective

of proper humility in the grip

of Nature as she wills

stay at home

gentle chill inside

outside arctic cold, icy rain crusting snow adding glittering brilliance

but also added incentive to remain

indoors

speckled cloud

haiku

speckled clouds stutters

twists, curves in new direction

starling on the move

whitened

haiku

sip hot chocolate

gaze at the glaze of white cover

first snow of winter