Helios is currently in a scorching rage when he traverses our sky. I'm guavas canned in syrup (pink, with a shiny glaze), and flies are losing their buzzing heads over the smell of hot hounds and humans. Wind would snatch a wig (if I wore one) off my head. We're grudgingly grateful for his churning… Continue reading What’s in a Name?
Room to Move ‘n Groove
Walking 'round a farm with a visiting friend feels dam good. Many things feel gooder when done with a friend: eating, cleaning (now that's the goodest kind of friend), reading in our respective corners, talking a troublesome issue to death and, sometimes, dancing. I'm principally a private dancer (not for money) but, in a room… Continue reading Room to Move ‘n Groove
The Heat Is On
A heavyweight bee flew through my open bedroom window, did a calculated surveillance flight, then hummed to my youngest son's room to do the same. From there, it strategically made its way to my eldest son's room. Investigation complete, it came full circle and hovered over my bed before buzzing off the way it came.… Continue reading The Heat Is On
Where There’s Smoke
The heat here has turned grasses into a balding, crackling, brittle mat; the ground sounds like dry Rice Krispies underfoot. Clumps of locusts, skilled in martial arts and armored up in primary colors (mostly red, yellow, and green), strut around with rude self-confidence. If they're part of the food chain, I'll eat my hat. As… Continue reading Where There’s Smoke
MantisWheel 