chocolate is a verb

colors, flavors, whims and other growing things

Tag Archives: equinox

found poem: spring

autumn, ring

found poem: I was living

found poem: the leaves

found poem: rolling

frame of reference…

the view from my deskTwice a year, for about a week or two near the equinox, the earth wobbles into position and, if clouds don’t intervene, the sun shines straight into my window as it rises. So bright I must half-lower the shade, the light bounces off my cluttered bulletin board and back onto the glass. The rest of the time, in our wide northern swing, the sun rises somewhere else — on another side of the house, through the neighbor’s trees, down the block behind the church — and my eyes measure the angled light, take the temperature of its color.

This is the view from my desk, what I see for the many hours I work and write. Before I sit down here, which is before almost everything except coffee, I raise the blinds on this pair of windows. In deep dark or dawn or the sharp hard brightness of the sun, every morning is different — the seasonal faces of the spruce and juniper and plum trees as familiar as my hands, the angled telephone pole, the peek-a-boo view of the top of Mt. Baker, the clouds and birds, the bees tapping their hard bodies against the glass. As I work, I gaze out there, seeing or not, waiting for the right word.

I trust this. In the chaotic and often untrustworthy world, this view is something contained, its hour-by-hour, month-by-month change something manageable. It is a reality I observe, describe, treasure. A gift I open every day. With gratitude.


Italian prune plumsFall blows in. Morning cloud-tops smoothed and combed, a surprise of pink far to the south, the belly of dawn. One near-black wombat of cloud scurries past, bright crust of moon suspended high overhead.

The yard is freckled with leaves — maple, plum, elm, cottonwood — wakened from their summer indolence, surprised into letting go.

The wind is warm and moist, without autumn’s northern chill. I step out in the tropical half-light to gather the last of the summer’s plums.

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