Storm Hot, humid and clear, a sunny bright summer afternoon In the west great billows of shining white clouds began building higher and higher. Coming closer, turning darker soon a wall of threatening black from ground to heavens, like night before its time. Suddenly a calm, a hush, no breeze, no birds, still! An eerie glow fills the air, like looking through a tinted lens. Then, the leaves begin to dance, the branches sway. A can goes bouncing, clanking down the street, dust blows, now the trees begin to bow before the wind. Faintly, in the distance, thunder rumbles, the black clouds backlit by flashing light. Now a drop, and then another the rain comes blowing on the wind. Faster, harder now , it blows in waves across the ground. Puddles form, gutters run like swollen rivers. It drums on roofs, rattles at windows, forces its way beneath the doors. CRACK! Lightning strikes in brilliant flashes, thunder answers with shaking crashes. Again and again then, quieter, less frequent as it moves off into the distance. The wind subsides, the rain becomes a gentle shower, then stops as the clouds blow by. Steam no longer beaten down by the rain begins to rise from the sun warmed streets. The sun shines out from behind the departing clouds. The air smells fresh and clean and on the horizon a rainbow, nature's apology for the storm now past.
Morning Light Still in the morning light, the pond reflects the mist rising past the heron sitting motionless waiting for the sun to rise. Fly Way (2004) They come from the North in the thousands. Wings beating in a steady rhythm, necks out stretched as they follow the ancient routes         writing their sinuous Vs across the autumn skies. Storm Hot, humid and clear, a sunny bright summer afternoon In the west great billows of shining white clouds began building higher and higher. Coming closer, turning darker soon a wall of threatening black from ground to heavens, like night before its time. Suddenly a calm, a hush, no breeze, no birds, still! An eerie glow fills the air, like looking through a tinted lens. Then, the leaves begin to dance, the branches sway. A can goes bouncing, clanking down the street, dust blows, now the trees begin to bow before the wind. Faintly, in the distance, thunder rumbles, the black clouds backlit by flashing light. Now a drop, and then another the rain comes blowing on the wind. Faster, harder now , it blows in waves across the ground. Puddles form, gutters run like swollen rivers. It drums on roofs, rattles at windows, forces its way beneath the doors. CRACK! Lightning strikes in brilliant flashes, thunder answers with shaking crashes. Again and again then, quieter, less frequent as it moves off into the distance. The wind subsides, the rain becomes a gentle shower, then stops as the clouds blow by. Steam no longer beaten down by the rain begins to rise from the sun warmed streets. The sun shines out from behind the departing clouds. The air smells fresh and clean and on the horizon a rainbow, nature's apology for the storm now past. Peaceful Interlude (2004) Took a break today down in the woods behind the house. Sitting on a bench in a shaft of sunlight the sounds of the streets a distant murmur. Eyes closed, listening to the snick, snick of leaves fallling The scraping of squirrls scampering up and down the trunks of the trees and the rustle as the dart through the old leaves on the ground. the twittering of small birds flitting through the underbrush in search of seeds. High above a flock of crows clamor raucously as they harass a lone hawk as it circles in search of dinner. Off in the distance a V of geese wing their way south, honking as they go. All too soon its time to end this peaceful interlude and return to the business of the day		Winter Night stars like crystal Sparkle in the cloudless sky. The full moon shining silver casts shadows of the leafless trees. The only sound the wind now gently blowing leaves across the path now strongly moaning through the tree tops, running cold fingers round your head and down your back. Sunday Morning You rise before the sun is up, to grab a bite and check the weather, then, get out the bike and pedal quickly in the pre-dawn chill. You meet your friends riding out of the morning mist, exchange quick greetings and set off down the road as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. Quickly leaving town behind you ride along getting warmer as you go. Soon the first down hill run, the wind quickening as you pick up speed, the chill returning as you reach the bottom, no sun here yet and the damp of the river filling the air is soon past as you start up the hill ahead. This is a good one. One to make you work, get the blood flowing, warming you up. By the time you reach the top you're ready to get rid of your jacket, the sun is bright behind you, warming up the air. Riding down the hill, you settle into an easy pace. It's quiet in the early morning, the mist slowly burning off the fields, the birds greeting the sun with a song. You ride along, seeing out across the countryside, a herd of cows slowly moving out to pasture after the morning milking, and over there some horses frolic, stretching out the stiffness of the night. And look! There up ahead, a regal hawk sits atop a lonely tree, calmly surveying the surrounding fields with a steely eye watching for the hint of movement that says, breakfast here if you're quick and sure. Up ahead, another hill to break the pace, by now you're warm and loose and every one reaches the top together. The sun is up and working now, you've been riding well, and there ahead is a place to stop, get a drink, coffee and sweets inside for those inclined. All refreshed, and ready to go, check the time, any one need to get back soon? Not today. Let's try a new route, haven't been there before, let's see where it goes. You set off down the road, round a bend and there ahead oh my! That's some hill. Oh well, here we go. Lower your gear, take deep breath and start to climb, thinking of the coast that awaits on the other side. At the top at last. As you wait for the rest to arrive you look around and see a view that was worth the climb. A panorama of fields and farms dotted with patches of woods stretching as far as you can see. You follow the road with your eye as it winds into the distance. That is where you will be heading, across those fields, and over there, a covered bridge over a country stream, and there, a patch of woods promising shade from the sun now risen high. Together now you're ready to descend, but listen, what was that noise? There again and several more. You look around and see rising over the trees one , two, and yet two more brightly colored balloons come drifting slowly across the sky, silent but for the whoosh of the burners keeping them aloft. You wave to the passengers who return the greeting, and as they sail out over the valley, you continue on your way. All too soon you're back on the busy roads of town, making arrangements for next Sunday morning and saying good-bye as your friends go their separate ways. It's been a good ride, well worth the early rise, a perfect way to spend time with good friends, to relax, unwind, and enjoy the outdoors.