Divinebunbun lives in a log cabin on 100 acres in the rocky Ozark foothills. Her porch is a box seat on nature and the seasons. This is her journal of chores and mysteries, natural history photos, and observations.
The Divinebunbun Comedy Poetry Bird and Bunny Ozark Foothills Log
Always there's a September dawn that isn't a summer dawn, and its clouds are like this: purplish, like bruises, but with holes for powdery light. Not chilly cirrus clouds, they're still cumulus--but different. They don't drift or sail. They part and ponder, commanding attention and my silence. We are facing something. I keep the windows shut at night now. The air dries out and the linoleum on the floor turns cold. Often when this day comes I feel sad: The summer left without me. But it's better to say it this way: I left and moved on, without summer. Took this photo down the road at the horse farm.