sunshine face in stained glass

Feeling the heat
Of a blazing orb
Warming my soul,
Shadows begin to emerge
Across the lawn before me.

A lone cardinal rests
in a warm sunbeam
motionless, beak facing East.
Dozens of cheery goldfinch
Alight and take off,
highlighting the air
surrounding me.

Fox tumble and play,
Napping on a moss covered
Abandoned stonewall,
doorstep to their
Hillside den where mother
Awaits the next feeding.

Phoebe’s announce their presence
As though megaphones,
Competing with echoes
From the riverside
Of two pairs of
Pileated woodpeckers.

A velvety muscular buck
and his brown eyed doe
lead their frisky but timid
spotty twins through
an established path
leading from the river up
to neighbor’s gardens, just
beginning to sprout.

Mourning doves coo
And innocently peck
At seeds dropped
Around the base
Of the birdfeeder pole.

Suddenly a sharp-shinned hawk strategically swoops in
to clutch away their innocence,
returning to her nest
with a lifeless body
in her lanceolate talons.

Fat frisky grey squirrels get
A running start to jump
Halfway up the now greased pole
Hoping for enough traction
To leap onto one of four
Seed-filled feeders.

Rusty striped chipmunks,
Cheeks filled fat with seeds,
Race back and forth
From feeder to sub-porch nest
Shared with dozens
Of garden snakes.

Shadows become shorter now,
The day warms and brightens
As the little pond across the drive
Comes alive with peepers,
Providing background music
For today’s sunrise event.


Spring Maiden imagines herself to be the happiest in the land. Not saddened to have been abandoned by her parents at a very early age, she feels lucky to have been raised in the forest by faeries that are her playmates as well as her tutors, taught the many ways of survival in the forest by telling her great faerie stories passed down by their elders, many including a deep respect for nature.

Following them since being lost in the spring as a young child, she not only has come to be one of them, but she helps them travel great distances as they cling to her soft, wooly golden hair. In return, they adorn her soft curls with forest flowers to groom her each day, their tiny voices like whispers in her ears as they work.

Each night she lies on a lush bed of warm green moss among the little faeries cuddled around her. As they slowly drift off to sleep under a midnight sky of twinkling stars, you may hear her humming a lilting tune if you listen carefully, although you may think it is only the wind whispering through branches in the tall trees.