under the dank pond,
below its winter wasteland,
Copyright 2021 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: At the toes of trees, sunk into cold mud, turtles hibernate away the winter, breathing through their bums. Really. Their bums. Now does your life sound as bad in comparison? 🙂
No matter how bare and empty the landscape, life is there, impatient for its moment in the sun. I find magic in that.
And in honor of “wasteland,” an image that came to me when I was standing on a path, enjoying the weak winter sunshine, looking at the vast, icy pond, an ode to a month fast approaching: