Author Archives: dh-johnston.com

Mom loved to bake and would share her baked goods with family, friends and shut-ins. Her sweet rolls were well-known, but at Christmas, she mixed up a rich dough of dates, nuts, and raisins. When baked in a greased floured can, this dark brown bread could be sliced into a wheel that tasted so good.Continue reading “The Botched Christmas Batch”

When the waves roared ashore, the wind carved a mama cat in ice. With kittens four by four, she kept each kit within her sight. No cloud moved a muscle. The sun didn’t blink. The shore returned its sculpture. New display forecasted this week.                      Continue reading “Shoreline Ice Gallery”

wings bring news of fall take rest on blue gray water pausing autumn’s end —Deb Johnston

on the longest day as the sun sets stand on the shoreline hold still in time as the sun sets let the waning light hold minutes, seconds strive for peace  in the waning light stand at land’s end in search of peace on this longest day —Deb Johnston

Hueless to me until thou comeAs, till the BeeBlossoms stand negative,Touched to ConditionsBy a Hum. —Emily Dickinson

John Muir— “When we contemplate the whole globe as one great dewdrop, striped and  dotted with continents and islands, flying  through space with other stars all singing  and shining together as one, the whole  universe appears as an infinite storm of  beauty.”  —Thank you, John Muir

ON THE DUNE limber grasses tango waves flaunt white ruffles  pines arrange cool shade roll with the lake breeze waves flaunt white ruffles  polish rocks along the shore roll with the lake breeze trace patterns in the sand polished rocks along the shore shadows of the gulls circle trace patterns in the sand just forContinue reading “LAKE SUPERIOR PANTOUM”

Let your beak decide, does this spark joy? The tidying up method for birds. #nature #birdwatching

In Memorial – Barb Cranford, Poet Snowstorm, December 10 on the highway sirens groan deep in the woods the house is still sirens moans woodstove hums my house is still on Emily’s birthday woodstove purrs and snowplow drones on Dickinson’s birthday while I share this poem snowplows fade on the highway as I write myContinue reading “On Emily Dickinson’s Birthday”

I dream of a better tomorrow, where chickens can cross the road and not be questioned about their motives.