The morning after

Fresh bicycle tracks in the now-frozen mud: a morning-after reminder of an unseasonably warm day.

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

 

Remnant

Stopping to photograph several frost-bitten crabapples, I hear the thin, shrill cry of a cedar waxwing looking for his flock.

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

 

Samaras against sky

A tulip tree clings to a few spiky samaras, the skeletal remains of flowers gone by.

This is my day four contribution to this month’s River of Stones, where writers around the world will make a conscious effort to notice and record some small thing every day.

 

Infusion

Blood-bright berries hang like droplets in a sere landscape, an enlivening infusion of brilliance and color.

This is my day three contribution to this month’s River of Stones, where writers around the world will make a conscious effort to notice and record some small thing every day.

 

Dewy

 

Gone to seed