Journal Writings on a Random Sunday

Powerful wind accompanied darkness, wind chimes chaotic, tiny hail, miniature pearls on a royal blue vinyl table cloth. Leaves rush up the hill and over the ridge where the deer walk at night. I narrate this scene to you.

I’m in National Mine, a place where houses shake, dishes in the cupboard vibrate the same time each day as the mine dynamites.

As quick as the wind arrived it is gone. No birds at the feeder, I say. Most of the leaves are off the trees.

Tonight I will watch for black bear and the orphaned baby moose.


About kimnixon

Upper Peninsula Michigan Artist and Writer

Posted on October 24, 2008, in In My Own Backyard, Verge and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: