Walking the Silver Spoon

Winter Porch

I miss the world outdoors,
in the way I knew it on warmer days.
The trails I walked, their hills and curves—
like tracing the bend of a spoon, turning it, over and over again, in my hand.
Even in stillness, without birds or bugs or blooms to discover,
the constancy of the walk I found very settling.
There is comfort in the familiar.

Icy Trees through upstairs window

I sit indoors, now, by a crackling wood stove, birds scattered on the fresh, white snow beyond the window.
Around me, a wealth of things and the faces I love.
A cup of hot tea at my elbow.
Browsing the photographs of a warmer day's walk -- almost as if in real time.
But, still, there is something missing.

Something that I find, only in my walking,
leaving wealth and warmth behind.
So, I walk.

Winter Walk

Crossing Paths

Praying Mantis egg case waiting on icy stems

Praying Mantis, female
from summer field