When the Sun is up over the horizon, but not yet over the rooftops, and all you can see directly before you are shadows and dark branches, but behind them, through the winter scape, you can see the light. You can see the light that is shining bright and golden, making the sky a glorious blue, a light that, once you are in it, will feel warm upon your shoulders and your face. The sun is up over the horizon. It is only a little bit longer. The darkness is going away.
Playing with the way the lights cataract through the branches, lighting up details and others in shadow. The first picture was my view while making coffee, and the words accompanying it began to spill out so I let them get down to the page.
Wrote this one the other day, and made the picture today when she was still a minute again
Bluetick
My hound her stomach growls
it sounds like a cat warbling hello
and having disturbed herself, she shifts her long limbs
kicking each back leg out into a stretch
black ears and dappled coat salt and pepper gray
she bends her grizzled nose above her loose jowls
which have been drooling on the pillow
yawning, surveying, seeing not her quarry
then she curls into a ball
tucking her lips carefully over leg and tail
nose still twitching
in what she deems a more comfortable position
to grumble and growl
while dreaming of cornered woodchucks from years ago
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