as the rain turns to frost

The change in the seasons is subtle. A wash of green or a crocus bud breaking the soil at the approach of spring, extended daytime and a break from the rain at the approach of summer, a slight cooling of the air or blush of red in the trees at the approach of fall…all of these events subtle reminders of the cyclical changes we observe throughout the year. And as these changes occur in the natural world around us, we begin to change our own habits as well. Drinking stouts instead of hefeweizen, wool sweaters instead of cardigans, rain boots instead of flats with dresses…

I cannot help but write about these subtle changes as we transition seasons. There’s something about change that inspires my pen more than times of stagnation. Inspiration from this poem below occurred during a run along Fairmount Boulevard and into Marquam Nature Park just a week ago. Enjoy, and keep warm!

Forest, silent and sleepy, is empty of its once lush busyness

Sun, weak and cold, sends shafts of warmth streaming through morning fog

Bark, darker, wetter, is saturated with the season

Leaves, a few floating alone now, most counterparts having submitted themselves to their soggy rest

Branches, spindly, their silhouettes enigmas. The leaves one revealed its name

Evergreens, stately, reliable, are always themselves, never masquerading

The still, quiet puddle never runs, just waiting now for the colder weather to immobilize it forever

Groundcover, now yellow and orange with fallen leaves is suddenly covered with crispy white tendrils in the cold clutches of dawn

Moss, persistently green, clings pervasively to the maples and nearby boulders

Fat winter wrens, scavenging, hop between now naked shrubs and underbrush

Smoke from the fireplace next door billows white out of chimneys

One pot, two steaming cups, a pattern of leaves. Maybe they’ll tell our future…but we are content here in the present, unknowing

beech leaf from


6 thoughts on “as the rain turns to frost

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