The heaviness of the cloud pushes down until I hunch under its dreary weight. West coast winter has arrived. Last nights winds were an early warning of what is yet to come. Today is smoldering quiet. Only small birds twitter in the trees as we walk.
I cast my eyes south,
then north along the shore,
stopping my roving gaze only when I look west and settle upon the smooth sandstone washed clean by years of waves.
I notice one small leaf also sitting in deviance.
Sprout question: What might you like to wash smooth?
© 2010 Terrill Welch, All rights reserved.
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Creative Potager – where imagination rules. Be inspired.
From Mayne Island, British Columbia, Canada