untangling the web

poetry about and photography of everyday happenings and sights

Category Archives: Nature


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Choosing a Path

What path do you choose today?

Will your actions matter?

Will you choose to immerse

yourself in the news or

do some small act of

kindness? Will you choose

to spend time hating

those in power or

feeling the love of family

and friends? Will you

choose to appreciate

the white dogwoods in

the woods, the blackberry

bushes, and the copper

ajuga blooms, or will you 

notice the potholes in the road

and the unpainted fences?

Each day, the path we choose

matters, each and every action,

small or large, matters.

Inspired by Carrie Newcomer’s post Clearing a Path.


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Surviving Chaos

On this February day when

chaos seems to be the norm,

I stepped out onto my deck

and was caught unaware by 

yellow and purple crocuses 

blooming in the raised wooden 

box. And then, another gift.

Daffodil shoots by the mailbox.

“To expect the unexpected

shows a thoroughly modern

intellect,” so said Oscar Wilde.

I say “Look for and embrace 

surprise if you want to keep

your sanity in this crazy world.


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August Mornings

Mist covers the pond

like a giant’s breath

on a cool August morning,

a morning that is a gift

after hot humid days.

And then it effortlessly lifts 

to allow the sun its show.

On a hot humid morning,

dragon flies dart around 

plants by the lake,

blue wings flashing, and

tree frogs chatter away while

water nibbles at pond’s edge.

New sweet gum leaves 

poke up from the roots of an

old tree and bees hum in 

a hollow trunk; pine needles 

are strewn across the path,

washed in piles by the recent rain.

White button weed hides in the 

grass and I almost miss it.

I try to be present, but it’s a challenge.


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Hope and Healing

Remembering how Olivia

planted crocuses around

a tree before an illness 

in an old Walton’s episode, 

I too planted them, needing

something to look forward

to. It was a warm October

morning a few weeks before 

surgery when I knew the 

unwelcome visitor in my lung 

had to come out and the 

road to recovery would be 

long. Now here you are 

pushing up your green shoots 

and opening your blooms.

I am still here and both

of us have made it through

the dark days of winter 

and are turning our heads

toward the healing sun.

Image by 🌼Christel🌼 from Pixabay


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Glimpses

As I drove along on

this cold, grey morning, 

a flash of red caught

my eye, then three more,

as four cardinals flew from 

the middle of the road and 

disappeared into the white woods.

Later this morning through 

the window during yoga I gazed 

at a big tree that has captured

my heart, its snow-kissed branches

stretching protectively over the 

courtyard of an old stone church,

filling the space with its gracefulness. 


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Synchronicity

As Luna and I ambled around

the pond on this clear, new 

morning with grass kissed by

frost, I began reciting out loud

as I often do Wendell Berry’s

The Peace of Wild Things.

At the very moment I

reached “and the great heron

feeds,” a great blue heron

flew the length of the pond.

Was this a coincidence,

synchronicity, or divine plan?


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When the World Makes No Sense

When the world makes no sense

and I am weary of its horrors,

I close my eyes and imagine myself

in the Blue Ridge Mountains, see

the purple and pinks of its sunrise,

the shadows in its ridges.

I imagine myself where Native 

Americans once lived, respected

the earth and its animals, and

I see the wildflowers and plants

used by wise women as medicines. 

I look up and see a hawk slowly

swooping in circles and floating

lazily among the clouds. My

body relaxes and my soul is fed.