Another canine traffic jam at the door.
Sit. Stay…. Okay
Like lit bottle rockets they launch, rounding the corner of the house to some imagined danger I cannot see.
A thousand toads bleat and honk,while rain sizzzles on the roof.
The pond is full.
Finally, the drought ends.
Sharp air, frost on the ground, my horse snorts whorls of frozen breath
I enjoyed reading your “pebbles.” My personal favorite: Boots. FYI My stones are in the sidebar and on a tab separate from the posts. I do a weekly blog not related to the River of Stones. Thanks for connecting. I’ve subscribed and look forward to more posts.
Thanks for stopping by, Laurie. I missed the ‘pebbles on the side,’ but so glad I got to read your memorial to your brother. I’ll check back by.
Where will you go for an O2 fix when/if you move? Your description of jungle living is enough to make this New Englander wistful.