Of Leaves and Children

IMG_1309 (2)

In an early Autumn rain

golden leaves stick like glue

to the spot where they fall,

but when winds dry the dampness

from the floor of the earth,

it relieves wet leaves

of their burden.

Freed leaves grow restless!

They drift and scurry!

Some stay close to home,

but some scatter far, far away.

Leaves are like children!

Speaking of leaves, here is a haiku for Ragtag Daily Prompt: Elusive

IMG_1306 (4)

An elusive leaf

snatched up by a gust of wind

dances on for miles

The Web

dew on a web

On my walk this mid-summer morning, the sun was shining just right through the trees, illuminating the silver threads of an enormous spider web and revealing the intricate artistry of the spider who built it. The web was an extravaganza of activity! On the outer edges, the spider himself was working tirelessly to expand his domain, while near the center, a small moth was attempting to free himself from the clutches of the sticky strands. The frantic flapping of wings disclosed his desperation, and it tempted me to reach in and save him. I resisted the urge to interfere with nature’s balance and kept walking. On my return, I passed the web again and noticed the moth was gone. In an effort to convince myself he was not lunch for the spider, I now imagine the moth is free and on his way to my house in search of fabric to snuggle into after his ordeal! Maybe I should buy some moth balls!

For RDP/daily word prompt: Extravaganza

Image from web search and daily.jstor.org

Slow and Steady

IMG_2983 (3)

We’ve had DAYS of rain!  Some of it has been harsh, but mostly it’s been slow and steady – the kind of rain that gives birth to new Spring growth. The grass and trees are no doubt the greenest green they will be for the rest of the year.

The rain has also produced an environment conducive to snails apparently, as I have seen a prolific number of them lately. Like a gentle rain, slow and steady describes a determined snail perfectly. I noticed this particular little guy yesterday as he started his journey from one side of the trail where I walked to the other.

When he first felt my presence, he receded into his shell, wary of the danger I might pose. He eventually sensed I meant him no harm and even let me photograph his trek across the pavement. I watched him for about 20 minutes, protecting him from certain death at the hands—I mean feet—of oblivious joggers who passed him by; so distracted were they by their headsets that surely they wouldn’t notice nature, let alone enjoy it.

I am grateful to have witnessed the triumphant progress of this strange little creature who carried his house on his back and moved at… wait for it… a snail’s pace!

For Ragtag Daily Prompt: Grateful