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04 October 2014

Fall-en: Flathead Lake, Polson, Montana

"Float down
Like autumn leaves
Hush now
Close your eyes before the sleep
And you're miles away
And yesterday you were here with me..."

- Ed Sheeran, from lyrics to "Autumn Leaves"

03 October 2014

Runoff Lines, Missoula, Montana

Rivulets
running
coursing
gunning for further
beyond present
pebble-strewn way

rainfall runoff
dreaming big
marked trails
toward someday
zig-zagging down yonder blue haze

- cyndy hull

02 October 2014

Seedheads, Missoula, Montana


Seed Heads Bursting Gold Light by Jeff Hardin

"We need to busy ourselves with memorizing autumn
in the puddles down the drive. A single
forgotten reflection makes all the others tremble.

I didn’t think twice as a boy, lying prostrate
to watch a dandelion bend with the breeze.
Amazing! I knew already what to do with my life.

I’d wager Solomon, had he lived nearby,
would have taken long walks in the sage grass field,
just to watch how seed heads burst with gold light..."

Please venture here to read the remaining two verses of Jeff Hardin’s evocative poem.



30 September 2014

Fruitful Transition, Missoula, Montana

I intended to add a gentle, lovely quote along lines of transitions of beauty in surrounding seasons mirror those of our soul - but Stephen King's witty words made me laugh out loud and then resonated so very well with my feelings about autumn. Enjoy (and may my mother forgive the one wee crass word.)
 

“But then fall comes, kicking summer out on its treacherous ass as it always does one day sometime after the midpoint of September, it stays awhile like an old friend that you have missed. It settles in the way an old friend will settle into your favorite chair and take out his pipe and light it and then fill the afternoon with stories of places he has been and things he has done since last he saw you.”

29 September 2014

28 September 2014

Blue Heaven, Missoula, Montana

“Sometimes, lying out on Aunt Ivy and Uncle Holt‘s back lawn, it‘d felt as if I could stretch out my arms and my fingertips and rake them across the underside of the heavens and end up with a fistful of stars.
Not even the biggest giant I could imagine could brush this Montana sky with his fingertips.”
- From
Hattie Big Sky by Kirby Larson