Every day, a photograph, a poem. Sometimes Fiddle Creek this far down the hill is dry. We’re not sure if it just filters through the soil or someone blocks it, but eventually, the little brook returns, and when it does, we feel hope. It’s like life flowing through the town— a bit of nature that is life-giving in so many ways— watching and listening, and for animals, taking a sip. It’s refreshing and relieving to hear and see it on our daily walk.
We also saw mushrooms sprouting from the droppings of the local herd of mule deer. Enjoy the gallery.
Even flowing just
a trickle: shining, babbling
little stream of hope.Sheri Edwards 090521 24836521 Poetry/Photography
Post 920 days in a row
Geeky Gramma ~~
Retired Middle School Language Arts/Media Teacher ~~
Writer and Thinker~~
Art from the Heart