million years ago the first
ferns unfurled their fronds
What made me think I
could move a few to a hedge
under front windows
Without their taking
over the adjacent beds
Pure folly, that's what
~dkm 255/365
A journal of outdoor observation, written in response to the simple act of paying close attention for an hour a day to the natural sights and sounds of an ordinary backyard in Decatur, Georgia, or wherever my travels take me, with the intention of recording the single most interesting perception of the hour. The challenge has taught me to expect the unexpected!
Faded note in 2020 written in 1919 |
Grandpa Yoder and desk in 1989 Grandpa, age 97 |
Desk in 2020 |