Perpetual Motion
The seasons cycle year in, year out.
Each season has its flavor but
Bleeds into the other.
And each year is the same
But different.
Winter begins with rain,
Signaling end to Autum.
Rain leading to puddles,
Overflowing creeks,
Welcome water in the reservoirs
Cedes to Spring
When strawberries
Come to farmer's market
And bulbs bloom prolifically.
Rain showers punctuated by
Sun and rainbows. and warmer air.
Here summer sneaks in
With two weeks of heat
That cede to foggy mornings
And chilly nights,
But warm sunny afternoons.
And wild oats go to seed.
A few days of heat in August
Then cooler air creeps in
The days grow shorter,
Shadows grow longer,
And Autumn arrives once more.
The seasons cycle year in, year out.
Each season has its flavor but
Bleeds into the other.
And each year is the same
But different.
Winter begins with rain,
Signaling end to Autum.
Rain leading to puddles,
Overflowing creeks,
Welcome water in the reservoirs
Cedes to Spring
When strawberries
Come to farmer's market
And bulbs bloom prolifically.
Rain showers punctuated by
Sun and rainbows. and warmer air.
Here summer sneaks in
With two weeks of heat
That cede to foggy mornings
And chilly nights,
But warm sunny afternoons.
And wild oats go to seed.
A few days of heat in August
Then cooler air creeps in
The days grow shorter,
Shadows grow longer,
And Autumn arrives once more.
| Bay Area Creeks Every Autumn I watch the local creek, Dry as a bone in late August, A trickle of water after an early shower That soon dries to nothing. A light rain and it becomes A stream of water That lasts a few days Then disappears again. Then a true winter storm. I can hear the creek Before reaching it. And smile. Water rushes down, Cascading over a ledge, Rushing into the storm drain Under the street. Carrying away the fallen leaves Of Autumn. Winter in the Bay Area Brings thoughts of water. Our elixir of life, Necessary to all beings, Animals small and large, Plants of all kinds, Humans. | Winter in the Bay Area The creek is flowing, Gutters are overflowing Pushing dry leaves Into the storm drains. No puddles here. The water flows downward In constant motion, Along creek beds, through storm drains Until it reaches the thirsty Bay. Blue skies arrive, A few straggling White fluffy clouds And colder mornings. But later in the day The sun warms. Plants sprout, Happy after the rains: White and yellow narcissi Bloom early, stay late, Purple blossomed rhododendron And orange citrus. . Overwintering hummingbirds, Ubiquitous crows, Red tailed and shouldered hawks. Bush tits sing a new song. Soon the migrant birds Will return as well. The cycle continues In the world of flora and fauna. And in the spirits of Observant humans. |
  I once had a large kiwi vine That was covered with fruit divine. I went out to pick. My heart felt so sick. The squirrel chattered "they were all mine."  Find the Thief |   In the garden, only bare bean stalks left, Parsley and mint cling close to the ground. But on a vine, long branches trail, Hiding brown kiwis that ripen. Mandarins turn orange on their tree. Meyer lemons turn yellow. Citrus, the Fruit of Winter.  Watch for the return of Rosie and other ospreys in late February/early March. Go to sfbayospreys.com or poetsinthegarden/FlyWithTheOspreys for more information. photo from Toaster28 |