Category Archives: WINTER.

Crystalline Bubbles in the Deep Freeze


IMG_3474The Winter Polar Vortex of Freezing bitter cold lays itself all over this land.  -35F.  The Sun rises in his betrayal happy to greet the day.  It is a betrayal I welcome for the blue that takes away the stark gloom of the blizzard.  The oxymoron of a frigid, Sunny day is this seasons delight.  The austerity is part of the ritual pattern.  I wanted to be creative since I had decided that I was going NO where in this brutal cold.  It was hard to know the length of the hold this freeze would have so this is what I did;

I made a soapy sauce for making bubbles to blow in this deep freeze, from dish soap, water, and a Tbl of maple syrup.   I made a  ‘wand’ from a two cheap bracelets found at World Market that I bent and plied together.  I wanted to see if the bubbles would crystalize when they hit the Arctic air.   I saw this process on FaceBook. Yes, FaceBook.  So many wonders and horrors can be found there.

It was irresistible.   I had to do it.  I have many pictures taken from my IPhone of the results of my Bubble making experience, going out in the frigid and trying to be quick to blow the bubble before it froze in the wand.  I had varied success.  Some of my photos are beautiful.  Really spectacular.  I could write a poem about all of them.  Maybe I will.  What a little book it would make.

I have shared a couple of these photos with you.  They are as they were photographed. I am amazed at the magic of them.  Please feel free to share them.  ANd… I invite you to try it yourself.


Bubble Haiku

From hot breath blows cold

Crystalline orbs float freely

Bubbles greet the freeze



‘I’m the youngest I’ll ever be’… a pantoum.


I’m the youngest I’ll ever be right now

Youth had its way with all my parts

I’ve parted with those days for these

So many moments brought me here


Youth had its way with all my parts

It was quite a party for decades

So many moments brought me here

The embrace holds acceptance in the mirror


It was quite a party for decades

East and West and all that in-between

The embrace holds acceptance in the mirror

Still a smile and a twinkle in the old eyes


East and West and all that in-between

I’ve parted with those days for these

Still a smile and a twinkle in the old eyes

I’m the youngest I’ll ever be right now.




A little sentiment in the 5/7/5 of New Year

new year 08 002

Happy New Year and Happy New Moon.  Thank to all of you for visiting, listening, responding to my words laid out here in the free fall of the moments.  I especially love when you say a few words, share a little deeper.  I invite you to do more of that if you are moved to do so.  Give me a prompt to write about.  mmmmm?

Word Press sent out a letter telling me about how my blog was followed for the year; from where people came, how many comments and likes, what tags, and phrases were most followed.  It was interesting that people came from all over the world and the tag ‘crop circle’ was one of the highest sought after tags.  I wrote one thing about crop circles.  Ha a haha.

It was good that my name held some weight to the searches.  Also, ‘school bus’ was ‘googled’ and I was found for the one poem I wrote about a school bus.   The most visited post was the one I wrote the day before I gave my  little dog back to the earth.  It was a very painful write that day.  I miss him still.

It’s all so very interesting.

It’s clear, that what keeps me at this blog is the art and act of writing, the discipline of having a place to share it seems to provoke my words. and keeps me writing.  I’m not sure I would sit here and write nearly every day if I didn’t have a place to give it away to.  tho’ everything I write does not get shared.

There is much to do this month in the gathering of things that need doing.  The snow is deep and the trudge through it is tiring.  The sun hides a lot here in Michigan in the Winter, which is mostly OK.  I’ll find my way to make it less of a trudge and more of a making of appreciation of the beauty of the White and chill.  Lay an angel or two on the fresh powder.


New in the darkness

Invites  surrender to light

Crescent to Full-ness.


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A New Year’s Prayer




Make this not the End of a year

Rather invite each new day

A moment to raise up and

Sound out a new beginning.


These are the days and

You are the ONe.

Not a corner of the Universe

Is without a place to celebrate


Cozy your heart around

What gives you joy.

Be renewed in loves call

There are no wasted moments


Light knows her darkness

Kindness waits for you to notice her

Peace is in your breath

Love has never left you


Make this not the End of the Year

Make this the beginning of a moment

And another moment, and another

filled with the gratitude of love’s ease


Make no doubt that you are Loved

There is no ending to the everlasting


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THe Blue Jay… a phantom, pantoum.


In the still bitter chill of the winter white

Busy is the Blue Jay  in his taking

Naked limb to naked limb dancing

Squawking for the spare of this season’s bounty

Busy is the Blue Jay in his taking

Watching his big want for so little

Squawking for the spare of this season’s bounty

And the Lake gives her flat stare to the grey sky

Watching his big want for so little

In the day rise of cold grey austerity

And the Lake gives her flat start to the grey sky

The only flick of blue is this bird flitting

In the day rise of cold grey austerity

A blue bird relentless in his scavenge

The only flick of blue is this bird flitting

Perched am I watching from frosted window

A blue bird relentless in his scavenge

Naked limb to limb dancing

Perched am I watching from frosted window

In the still bitter chill of winter white

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Filed under BE HERE NOW, dease lake, michigan, pantoum, WINTER.


Morning… watching the sun rise this cold morning.  Thinking about how the Sun is tease, and how I am fooled again and again into thinking that it just might be warmer out there than I think.  HAaaa.

frost on the car window


Winter Sun gives freeze to the first inhale

Crystalline stalactites wait for the body heat

to exhale a melt down

All that golden light filling the blue

teases at the illusion of warmth

Layer upon layer can’t keep the breath’s vapor

in halo away

It’s a smoky fog that leads the way


What sense is the Sun if he gives no warmth?

The shiver and shake longs for basking

To fill up on heat that lays false to Winter chill

Stealing at your mind what one season gives

that the other withholds

Green leaves to naked austerity still

pouring on the Golden light like it matters.


And we hunger for the Sun when Winter comes

taking the starving away for what was yesterday’s

Summer’s gifts, gone for the deep chill in rest

In this place where all seasons have their ways.

Hope that harvest has gathered enough for the keeping


And you step outside to feel that Great Golden Orb

with one single inhale that gives freeze to your breath

That one celebrated gasp, a frozen moment

Releasing an exhale with a shudder and quake

Fooled again by that Winter Sun.


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Time was shifted again this morning.  A little quake forward of an hour. A little shiver in time.  Today has 23 hours rather than 24. It has occurred to me in some moment of wonder; who decided, with authority, to to change time, and how long did it take them to ‘conclave’ and come to it?  Not so much the why of it.  That doesn’t take much pondering as the build up to Winter Solstice gives to short, dark days, and the want and desire for Light becomes a hunger.   A shift in time can fix that.

No matter the gift of winter quietude and seasonal austerity that needs this time to do what it must, the drab and dark can feel lonely, closed in, and humans crave Light.  Long, dark days call me to my inner world, where the of light me comes from inside out.  I find myself feeling creative, busy lighting up my world with writing, and making things for me and my friends and family.  Mostly, I let myself notice.  I don’t usually feel the drab and gloom that fills the Midwestern sky for months till the Spring pushes her points of green out and spreads, calling Summer heat to give her blossoms and seeds.  I love those sunny days that linger into the night, and the want to be outside under the canopy of summer’s light that sunsets to corals, and blues and indigo for the starry night; feeling the heat of the day linger on bare skin.

My body is full of the seasons as they come,and go in the time that they take to do what they do. My inner clock is patterned by them, and the elemental expressions of them.

Time is made up and clearly it can be shifted.  And an Infinite Universe is timeless.  We’re floating around in it.  What’s time got to do with anything really, other than what we proclaim it to be so we can box our lives up in a certain way?  So we get certain living done in a timely manner, so we can do it again.  Time is a construct. (IMO)Somedays it holds the day together, and some days it in the way of my Joy.



This is it right now

Breathe in this moment fully

What does peace smell like?


Why count the minutes

When in the presence of the

Present is your gift





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Grey Gloom Girly gives again

winter 2013

With March having snowed her way in, I’m hopeful that April will find us sooner than later laying her heady little crocus and snow drops with some vibrant green on the land.

Grey Gloom Girl, makes lots of visits to this part of the world, especially in the winter months. She generous with herself. She likes to amass the whole Mid-West and some of Canada when ever she gets a chance.  She can be sooo consuming.  I hear myself let loose with a big sigh, feel my face lack luster, and my lips push to the floor.

I’m doing my best to befriend her.  I’m the one most resistant.  She’d loved to cozy up, swaddle, and swallow me in her dull void.  It’s not like I haven’t given into that cool, overcast, and distant demeanor before, cause I have.  I’ve been known to let that over cast sky be my sunny day.  I’m not really into that kinda thing anymore.  Ya know?

She knows it pisses me off when she’s busy spitting and spewing little wet drops of freeze which is what she’s doing right now.  I’m gonna love her anyway.  That’s the thing about having choice in attitude about these kinda things;  I can give her bitch status and rave on about how annoying she is OR,  I can imagine her feeling lonely and needy to be seen and appreciated for what she is; all dull and grey and colourless.  She’s a little boring.  I’ll  love her anyway and wrap her up in my Sunny disposition.


No overcast here

Sun melts the grey gloom away

Lit up bright inside


Filed under HAIKU, michigan, NATURE, WINTER.

SNOW PONIES… haibun/haiku

The last day of February.  Zoom, gone.   One more day closer to Spring.  Yeaaaah.



Winter lays the heaviest dang carpet of snow on the Earth.  It’s so wet, it’s nearly impossible to shovel.  So, I don’t and hope my car barrels through the mess, which it has been so far.

This kind of snow makes for good snowman.  I saw some kids down the street making a fort and another an igloo of some sort.  And two little snowwomen with a red scarfs and some goofy hat, protecting the driveway.   Kids love this kinda wetness.  I sure did.   All wet and shivering, blue lipped and proud of the snow sculpture in the front yard.

I use to make snow ponies.  Me and Cathy, my alley neighbor, would build our horses next to her garage; we’d polish them down to make them like ice sculpture, give them faces, and wrap cord around them like a halter and reins, cover them with blankets and pretend we were riding them like cowgirls.  We froze our asses off sitting there in all our pretend, having so much fun.  We were so proud of our ponies.

After more than an hour of being cold and happy, our teeth clattering in our mouthes, we’d come in to one of houses to sip on coco to warm up.  These memories make the dense wet of this snow and all the branches down,  messing up yards and cars, seem trivial to the joy of bundling up and building my pony in Cathy’s yard all those decades ago.  I will gather and hold these treasures of memory when I feel the rise of complain pushing at my edges.


Gather the blizzard

Build the Snow Pony to ride

Heavenly gallop







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WINTER… We are not free from this force of nature yet.  No way at the end of February in Michigan.  I can’t pretend that I don’t think it’s gorgeous out there.  Stunning in the heavy white of winter magic.  This ice wet snow is not caressing the trees, it’s weight bends them to the ground, taking the trees in ownership of who’s more powerful; who rules this season.

What I love is the quietude of winter when he comes like this, all wet and heavy, burying us in the weight of white, holding us down, forcing us down, for awhile to be present in the season.  Momentum is slowed, peaceful if you give yourself to it.  I will give myself to this day of dense white flock.  Settle into the shelter that this blanket of snow lays to the Earth.  Tuck myself in and let the season have me right where it wants me.


Flocked in winter white

Lay silence to the landscape

Make love to the snow



Filed under NATURE, WINTER.