the weight of wings

I'd forgotten about the starlings - had drowned their raucous cacophonies in the deepening days of August until just now, the noisome rush plummeted into the honey locust, whose yellow is now heavily inked by the sudden weight of wings © Sarah Whiteley


seems every corner these days, yellow reluctance hangs from the trees but can you maybe see the small promise in the perchance-forgetfulness of coming wintry rimes where we might biding sleep 'til wakened by warmer times © Sarah Whiteley


a dozen dark-eyed juncos, full of bright yes-es, skitter through a feast of fallen cones for days now I've carried the polished comfort of a horse chestnut like a talisman though no earthly charm will reconcile the leaves back onto November trees when October finally yields © Sarah Whiteley

November chickadees

November chill rusts the dogwood, scatters the locust seeds down the sodden street the maple this year shows an unusual reluctance for red but today gray was made a near beautiful thing - a frame for the darker darts of the chickadees in the yellow goodbye of the chestnut tree © Sarah Whiteley

autumn’s end

the bees have succumbed to drowsiness and the honeysuckle's dropped, replaced by the final asters bowing low in blue reverence of sky the river birches arch their yellow-graced necks over the pond where drifts of silver fish begin their quiet descent to barely being maples wait in flashing ranks, upturned and expectant of lowering skies … Continue reading autumn’s end