Saturday, February 18

It's Warm Again For My Morning Coffee Muses

It’s Warm Again For My Morning Coffee Muses.

There’s a high, leftover fog moving up above…

Alternately showing then hiding the sun…

It’s warm then cool then warm again as the sun comes and goes.

We’ve moved back into spring, pale green leaves on my mulberries have turned dark green.

The oak trees around the perimeter of my view have taken on the pale green the mulberries gave up.

The cypress tree has green swollen buds at the end of each twig.

The birds are busily searching for mates if they haven’t already found one.

The white oak is covered in catkins already, the red oak still bare.

No buds showing on the wisteria, the azaleas have been blooming for weeks.

The last tree to ever show color around here is always the pecans, they wait longer than any other species to commit each spring.

I’ll be glad when the full spring growth comes in, it’ll hide my neighbor’s shop and barns for another few seasons.

At least the past week has moderated the temperatures to a degree, though the high for the day is forecast to hit th low 80’s once again.

Gotta love winter…

Friday, February 17

Another Springtime In Winter Morning Coffee Muses

Another Springtime In Winter Morning Coffee Muses.

Our seasonable coolness has slipped back north, slinking out like a burglar in the night. Our almost perpetual cloud cover is back once again.

Today I slept in and watching the birds is more interesting this morning than coming up with words to explain what I’m seeing… so have a glorious day and don’t let the so-called President’s actions and lies get you down.

 

Thursday, February 16

Sunny And Cold Morning Coffee Muses

Sunny And Cold Morning Coffee Muses.

The dew sits heavily on the grass, glistening in the morning sun.

My breath rises visible in the sun’s light… like a two decade old memory of another me.

Cardinals mark territories with songs of warning. A bluebird’s song is looking for a mate.

The male bluebird’s looking at houses, fluttering here, fluttering there peering into door holes before moving to another.

For a bird I didn’t grow up with, I notice each quiet call around the yard… even back when I didn’t know what I was hearing.

It doesn’t take long for the sun’s warmth to drive me out of my jacket as I watch tiny birds play king of the tree.

The ongoing warmth of this winter has destroyed the normal group dynamics and set up mating cycles too early.

Time to loose a jacket and pour another cup of muses…

Wednesday, February 15

Cool Almost Wintery Morning Coffee Muses

Cool Almost Wintery Morning Coffee Muses.

The sunlit sky makes a line on the southern horizon.

An all gray mass slowly crosses the sky trying to shut it off.

Here and there a spot of blue breaks the bleakness of another overcast morning.

The feel of the morning air is, for a change, seasonably cool.

A rift in the sky opens for the sun to break through…

Nature holding it’s breath… breathes as the warmth bathes my face.

For now, sunlit skies have returned, wind whispers thru the trees, birds sing…

The thump… thump… thump of tires crossing expansion joints on the bayou bridge intrude on my muses…

And… clouds reclaim the warmth.

So I sit and enjoy the cool of our too warm winter as it becomes our spring.

And… north winds make the pines sigh as they move their limbs to and fro.

The sky, once gray, then blue, is gray once more… The air once still now blustery, ¬†chilling my skin.

Tuesday, February 14

Thunderously Stormy Valentines Morning Coffee Muses

Thunderously Stormy Valentines Morning Coffee Muses.

The day has darkened minute by minute.

Distant rumbling of meteorological battles coming closer.

Lightning’s flash cuts the newly darkened face of turbulent skies.

Raindrops patter drowns out the sound of everything away.

Angry red and orange covers radars screen…

Rushing slowly across the glass while clouds skud quickly up above.

Day into loud and stormy night… all in but minutes gone and come.

Cold mists swirling under porches roof, no shelter from what blows about.

Warnings flying thru the either, beware the cyclonic winds wandering about.

It seems the ancient gods have come out to play, man beware.

The heavenly battlefield above our heads turns dangerously angry on this day.

the ramblings of my brain over that first cup… and other meanders