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We wish to walk on the sand,    to view tumbled treasures. Take what you need, but leave the rest. Share the trove of the commons. We came to rest near your shore,     cleanse away our haste. Let my waves wash up to greet you, dissolving the rush. We are here to renewContinue reading “LAKE SUPERIOR”

With black stripes that announce “tiger king,” a tiger swallowtail butterfly lifts golden wings that drift and glide, as he sips nectar and ferries pollen. With a linger here, a perch there, and swish of a barn-swallow tail, he rises above with goodwill. There is a time to scatter,  and a time to gather. AContinue reading ““Tiger King””

The Woodpecker on dining detail no one works harder swoops in taps out termites grabs a grub a fly-by piercing leaves behind a newly-riddled wall            Deb Johnston

You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. Please remember that your difficulties do not define you. They simply strengthen your ability to overcome. —Maya Angelou

Birdcalls break morning silence. Purple, yellow, green, replace brown, as earthy scents defrost. Ferns uncoil and warmer breezes caress. Trees sway in jubilation.                    —Deb Johnston

A tiny cloud rises from my coffee, as a lone hawk swoops from birch to pine. Patches of white mend the gray-blue sky. Ice and snow stretch out to rough open water. How to survive these near-endless winters— a signal lifts along my cup in a twirl. The coffee cools, the message fades. I returnContinue reading “Window on Lake Superior”

The moon, full, low, spreads the night lights across the heavy sky. Shadows on the snow play tricks on the eyes, turn evergreens into pawns. With rook and knight captured, the queen is unprotected— a January moment surrenders.         —Deb Johnston

From the cabin window winter approached on icy waves. Slapping the shore’s cheekbones causing a spray of tears that convulsed, then spattered. We woke early to witness open water surrender locked into crystal caves.               —Deb Johnston

“I will honor Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year.  ― Charles Dickens

Expose’ Gone is the comfort of green, urged ablaze in crimson, gold. Gone is the the canopy shade now shriveling on the ground below. Brawn is the the burgeoning trunk, laid bare the tell tale burl. To disclose traces of pest and community, plight and promise, drought and bounty, a century divulged.    —Deb Johnston