• clouds,  haiku,  landscape,  storm clouds,  writing/reading

    Wind Shaped Clouds

    captivating storm
    waves of ominous clouds
    solitary tree

    ms

    Took this late yesterday afternoon on Larimer County Road 3. What initially drew me to this scene was the clouds and then I saw the the solitary tree. The combination got me excited. These clouds were all around me but no rain. They are however, predicting rain later today and over the next 3-4 days. Had a short night of sleep and will probably nap on the plane. I’m almost packed and ready to leave. Have a great day!

  • haiku,  lake,  landscape,  natural areas,  sunrises,  writing/reading

    Cloudless Sky

    cloudless eastern sky
    night departs new day begins
    peaceful time of day

    ms

    Not a cloud to be seen from the north to the south this morning. No wind. Very quiet and calming at the natural area. I find these experiences bring serenity and a peace to the world within me. Wish more of the world would start their day with moments like this. Time with nature.

  • haiku,  landscape,  natural areas,  sunrises,  writing/reading

    Pre-dawn Pallette

    Predawn colors at Pineridge Natural Area taken back in January

    predawn palette…
    awaiting the new day
    cloudless sky

    ms

    I awoke early, had quiet time, made a chai latte then headed to the nature area. Robins were singing their spring love songs. Magpies chatting atop a barren tree with buds just beginning to appear. A half dozen mule deer grazed along the Viewpoint Spur trail, ears always perked and alert. A couple cottontails chasing one another and making me laugh. It was rather quiet, one of my favorite sounds. It is overcast as a weather system moves our way bringing much needed moisture in the form of rain and snow over the next three days. Have a great day!

  • clouds,  landscape,  Plants,  quotes,  trees

    Nothing except what he is

    Grove of aspen trees somewhere in northern Utah

    For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.