The storm is upon us, bearing more bluster than moisture, puffing and huffing the lake into whitecaps freckled only with a few sprinkles; but blowing it is, perhaps not a gale but forcibly nevertheless, whipping the water into a froth of peaks and troughs. It is too soon for the March lion to be breathing at the threshold, yet we are reminded of his presence, as if perhaps he is stirring in his sleep.
365Caws is now in its 16th year of publication. If I am unable to post daily, I hope readers who love the natural world and fiberarts will seize those days to read the older material. Remember that this has been my journey as well, so you may find errors in my identifications of plants. I have tried to correct them as I discover them. Likewise, I have refined fiberarts techniques and have adjusted recipes, so search by tags to find the most current information. And thank you for following me!
Monday, February 14, 2011
Stormy Waters
The storm is upon us, bearing more bluster than moisture, puffing and huffing the lake into whitecaps freckled only with a few sprinkles; but blowing it is, perhaps not a gale but forcibly nevertheless, whipping the water into a froth of peaks and troughs. It is too soon for the March lion to be breathing at the threshold, yet we are reminded of his presence, as if perhaps he is stirring in his sleep.
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