The Spell of the Pool

There’s a crystal-arrowed riffle at the turning of the river,
There’s a waterfall where nature teaches school,
There’s a bank of swaying alder with each budding twig aquiver-
And there’s magic in the murmur of the pool!
Can’t you see the cold, blue water as it eddies, sparkles, flashes
In the willow-shadowed reaches of the stream,
And the ever-widening ripples where the trout, in falling, splashes
As the osprey drops his quarry with a scream?

L. Burton Crane, Jr.

It’s all around bad weather today. The morning started with dark gray clouds. The surrounding was calm waited for the storm that was supposed to come. By the afternoon, the rain fell and, then some snow, next came some ice. Under my giant umbrella I could hear the tapping of the ice falling on it. There’s no significant rhythm, merely white noise. I missed sunshine and blue sky, like the picture I took during our vacation in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. Just by looking at it, my spirit was lifted off to a happier place.

Summer in Porthsmouth


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