Four young duck tails bob and wiggle towards the sky while Mama duck keeps watch. Green frogs sound their resonant twangs, lingering on patches of algae. Tall grass waves and towers, sheds its prodigal seeds all over Kate and Clara’s black coats, like a coat of grainy snow. The glade where Anna and Robert married in 2015 was inundated by a massive blow down two years ago. It had turned into a tunnel-like passage, but Jonathan recently reclaimed the space with tractor and brawn – our little cathedral under the trees. I like it here. My 60th year in 60,000 words Day 302: 94 words, TOTAL = 49,745; 10,255 remaining
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorRobin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs. Archives
September 2024
Categories |
Proudly powered by Weebly