How smoothly twilight falls
on the lake, its placid waters
reflecting the dawdling
last beams of daylight,
joined now by the evening star.
Ripples lap sluggishly
at stones along the shore--
a cat washing its paw
before settling for a nap.
Serene swans silhouetted
in the gently falling gloaming
float toward their secret nests;
ducks mutter last thoughts
before tucking their heads
under darkening wings
as moon, planets and stars,
one by one, poke through
the wispy veil of cloud
to admire themselves
in the mirroring lake.
The sun falls warm: the southern winds awake: The air seethes upwards with a steamy shiver: Each dip of the road is now a crystal lake, And every rut a little dancing river. Through great soft clouds that sunder overhead The deep sky breaks as pearly blue as summer: Out of a cleft beside the river's bed Flaps the black crow, the first demure newcomer.
The last seared drifts are eating fast away With glassy tinkle into glittering laces: Dogs lie asleep, and little children play With tops and marbles in the sun-bare places; And I that stroll with many a thoughtful pause Almost forget that winter ever was.
One day last week I observed an unusual phenomenon: a complete halo around the sun. We were driving into the city and it was on my side of the car, so I got a good look at the glow radiating from the circle. Here on the prairies when the weather turns colder it’s not unusual to see sun dogs, but rarely a full circle, and such a large one as this was.
When I hear “RADIATE” the first image that comes to mind is sunshine. What a blessing the sun is to our world! Vital to life and a restorative to mind and soul. Yes, it’s dry here in SK, but I’m so glad to live in a land that gets so much sunshine.
Here’s a poem I wrote long ago that I hope you’ll enjoy while I (hopefully!) finish off my WIP today.
Lemon Trees Love Sunshine
They lift their branches in praise of its light; leaves imbibe its goodness through every pore trunks rise to toast themselves in its glow roots extend their toes in its ground-warmth.
When storms unfurl cloudbanks between, it shoots them through with silver mercies infuses each droplet with benevolence, brimful cup of blessing for beloved trees.
Roots with grateful thanks absorb ambrosia
trunks convey nutrition to every stem
leaves dance to pitter-patters of praise
branches flexed by wind grow stronger.
The trees confer among their members
and in due season they bring forth
love-offerings to their celestial benefactor,
miniature reflections of its golden self.
The original and main meaning of this word is “held by a spell, or as if by a magic spell” but a second sense has arisen from this, fascinated by something wonderful or intriguing.
I enjoy thunderstorms, watching the boiling clouds. In his poem “Cloud-Break,” Canadian poet Archilbald Lampman, describes an intriguing storm scene…
To the summit of heaven the clouds Are rolling aloft like steam; There's a break in their infinite shrouds, And below it a gleam. O'er the drift of the river a whiff Comes out from the blossoming shore; And the meadows are greening, as if They never were green before.
One day I stood in our yard, spellbound by the phenomenon of an approaching storm. Overhead there were some stormy clouds, but not far to the west this giant circle of cloud hovered, overshadowing many miles of land beneath it. The outer edges were lumpy and white like cumulus clouds usually are, yet a clearly defined ring, quite apart from the sky around it. And there it hung, the whole mass slowly turning, like I imagine a giant hurricane would.
I ‘d never seen the likes, so told my husband about it and he found a description of a supercell cloud. Yes, this is what it was. The precursor of storms, hail, even tornadoes. Thankfully it didn’t move over our area. I searched for an image that shows a supercell like I saw and was glad to find this one, posted by David Mark on Pixabay…