The weather has been especially harsh lately and I am a wimp, so I have not been going out for my usual walks. This morning was 50 degrees and foggy so I set out with a song in my heart and saw wondrous things::
a live oak in a field of waving, orange grass,
the last bit of dew clinging to these berries,
dried seed pods that look like silvery, gray petunias,
tall, dried, sculptural flowers,
this bare tree nestled in the dried broomweed,
the fog lifting and sunlight shining behind this tangle of vines and berries.
...He shines in all that's fair; in the rustling grass I hear Him pass; He speaks to me everywhere.