Hoarded Ordinaries

Not-quite-spring fling

Lorianne — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 22:54:26 +0000

A pair of woodpeckers flits and cackles, the male scooting on his branch while the female looks away, toward a chuckling nuthatch.

Lorianne — Thu, 19 Jan 2012 15:51:37 +0000

Yesterday’s footprints are cast in earth harder than concrete, their texture tripping us at every step.

This is my day nineteen contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

Lorianne — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 15:35:36 +0000

Already yesterday’s snow has been reincarnated as today’s puddles and slick-spots: the metempsychosis of midwinter mud.

This is my belated day eighteen contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

Lorianne — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 15:14:18 +0000

On snowy mornings, I can read the stories the dog sniffs every day: here, a jogger ran; there, two dogs raced off leash, jubilant.

This is my belated day seventeen contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

Lorianne — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 19:47:38 +0000

Another frigid morning. The dog and I briskly circle the block while the cats map the warmest radiators and sunniest windows.

This is my day sixteen contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

Lorianne — Sun, 15 Jan 2012 19:23:39 +0000

A morning so cold, the dog’s pee steams, puddles, then freezes on the pavement, leaving a slick yellow smear.

This is my belated day fifteen contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

Lorianne — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 17:37:16 +0000

Was that a sapsucker squealing from a tall pine this morning, his whiny squeak like a dog’s rubber chew toy? I’ll never know.

This is my day fourteen contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

Lorianne — Sat, 14 Jan 2012 00:04:51 +0000

Another morning steeped in gray drizzle. A sprawling rose bush stands studded with raindrops and thorns.

This is my day thirteen contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

Lorianne — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 23:23:29 +0000

A drizzly morning, with the sky as gray as an old dishrag. In the hedges, the chickadees flit and chatter, undeterred by cold.

This is my day twelve contribution to this month’s River of Stones.

Lorianne — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 17:28:39 +0000

Awoke to a hard frost, but still no snow. Among the chuckling nuthatches, a titmouse whistles his clear song.

This is my day eleven contribution to this month’s River of Stones.