Sunday, December 23, 2012

A sprinkle of sugar by a
kitchen garden gnome,
or was it frost
I found?

Saturday, September 29, 2012

Next to his dilapidated shanty, a fisherman
abandoned a craft covered with colorful scratches,
inadvertently awakening my artistic sensibilities.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Somewhere between solar power from above
and the power line below, man exists and
is suckled by both systems.

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Who among us hasn't concluded, 
at some point, that they are
still lost and searching
for their own meaning?

Monday, July 16, 2012

Sometimes we stand next to one another.
At other times, we are simply
beside ourselves.

Tuesday, July 10, 2012

Ten Brown Pelicans passed parallel
to the shore, flying in formation
above the rocky cliffs.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

That which appears to be empty
merely possesses a more
subtle type of fullness.

Tuesday, May 22, 2012

The poet's thoughts become a poem;
but, what is its engine that
drives it home?

Saturday, May 19, 2012

Buds are the baby
flowers waiting to
be born.

Agapanthus orientalis
Lily of The Nile

Monday, May 14, 2012

Consider how many among us,
unbeknownst to the rest,
are drowning in this
ocean of people.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

The sun fell upon a flower,
yet the sky did not
grow dark.

Coulter's Matilija Poppy
Romneya coulteri

Monday, April 23, 2012

A sea urchin is pure art in death. The essential
qualities of line, color, and geometrical form
are embodied in a beautiful structure.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Strangers are merely raconteurs
whose every story is
a mystery!

Thursday, March 22, 2012

How can we not be in complete awe of the natural world?
Our amazement must surely encompass everything from
the dark matter of deep space to the lives of tiny
crabs between grains of sand on the beach.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Perhaps we could accept the peculiar gift of seeing the
world with a hawk's incredible visual acuity, but could

we endure viewing our fellow creatures  solely
as prey ?

Sunday, March 11, 2012

He sat on the cement bench, looking beyond his
bent knees at the fisherman's catch in its
death throes.  An unbearable sight.

Tuesday, February 28, 2012

Human beings must walk with humility,
always sharing the path with
earth's other creatures.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Perhaps those tangled strands of sand found on the beach
at low tide are fleeting impressions of some
sea nymph's tousled locks.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Eagerly anticipating spring,
some buds cautiously
begin to unfold.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Puddles are wonderful traps for pieces of sky.
The fallen are caught, but released again

when the sidewalk has dried.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Teardrops clung to the face
of the dead leaf, suddenly
parted from its
parent tree.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Ghosts of dead trees make their presence
felt by scrawling their names on
the face of the water.

Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Pass that empty lot with out so much as a glance,
and you will surely miss your chance to see
the grass proudly wearing new and

delicate beads of dew.

Monday, January 30, 2012

When the vessel of creativity is almost
empty, a new point of view can easily
be found by shifting right side up
into upside down.

(photo of the underside of a mushroom)

Sunday, January 29, 2012

To be driftwood is its dream; unfortunately,
stagnant water denies

a log's rhythm.

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Mr. Lizard is being sought after by fashion police
for shameless public displays

of his  snazzy pattern.

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

American Wigeons are ducks whose name is strangely
suggestive of some clever but unnecessary

gadget invented in the U.S.A.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Oak is the arbitrator. He uses his strength
and patience to bring the earth and sky

to a peaceful agreement.

Monday, January 23, 2012

Sometimes a stone is more than an obviously smooth, hard surface.
It may also serve as an unusual but convincing canvas
for a demure self-portrait.

Saturday, January 21, 2012

"Progress" and "mankind" appear on the
 tragic signage proudly erected
 wherever another forest
 has been felled.

Friday, January 20, 2012

Night enfolds the socially isolated, but in doing
so may provoke uncontrollable fear in those
who already wander the streets by day
measuring the shadows.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Delicate in appearance only, the dragonfly
can cling tenaciously to its
chosen anchorage.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

What would it mean to you, if every morning you did not see
the blue bleed through that sky
that had been drenched all
night in darkness?

Monday, January 16, 2012

Wires carrying electricity are marvelously strung across a canyon,
yet they
disappoint me because they are not also bearing
or more of the Flying Wallendas.

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Readers abhor the prospect of death because it denies
them the chance to experience
untold numbers of
stories... and of the ones they've begun,

they will never learn their ends.

Friday, January 13, 2012

Your comfort zone is the place
creativity goes to
commit suicide.

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Today the trees reached up and
intertwined their arms with
the clouds and danced
with joy.

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Tuesday, January 10, 2012

An old rusted fence presents an incidental sculpture
created by the complex angles of its
tangled metal.

Monday, January 9, 2012

Tiny trapdoors hide spiders
waiting for the vibrations
that trigger a leap upon

the unknown.

Sunday, January 8, 2012

Possessing  dangerous edges,
less precious gems
also stud the earth.

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Beware! An army of demented metal
marches across the landscape
toward your town.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Wednesday, January 4, 2012

To the face in the mirror I say, "You are not the person I went
to bed as last night, because every morning
I wake up reborn."

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Willows use their branches to brace
their reflections against the
slippery surface of
the creek.

Monday, January 2, 2012

The Golden State sun bakes
California's crust to a
flaky but delectable brown.

Sunday, January 1, 2012

The cold, crisp night in the canyon was punctuated
by the high pitched chirp of a bat
concealed by darkness.