Scene Out My Window

Late evening and the bluejays are active. The sun has played musical chairs with the clouds today.

Out on the old sand mound, a black cat naps lazily between the blackberry vines. Soon twilight will fall, and perhaps he will go on the prowl for some poor, hapless field mouse.

Humidity hangs in the air like a wet blanket, and the trees seem still until I glance to the top and notice a little stirring in the branches.

The turkey oaks never seem to fare well in the brutal August heat. Spring’s green shimmer fades from their leaves and turns them brown around the edges.

I watch as a lone bird swoops through the oaks and disappears into the woods beyond. And as I drop the curtain on the scene out my window and another day, I imagine she’ll find a place to roost through the long night ahead.

courtesy
Robbie Wright

August in the Georgia Woods

Gone are the sunny days as clouds dominate my Georgia skies. On this gloomy Friday afternoon, a lone buzzard catches a free ride on the wind currents just above the sentinel pines.

A mourning dove comes swooping low across the field. She hovers for a moment over the birdbath, but soon takes flight and darts away. The bluejay lingers a little longer, taking a moment to rest among the turkey oak.

I step outside to cooler, yet humid air. A little rainwater rests in the basin of the birdbath, and the wind has littered it with pine straw.

The dog bounds up to me excitedly, and we take a brisk walk up the sandy road. A chorus of cicadas fills the pine forest,their otherworldly chimes ringing deep in my ear like some alien invaders.

Soon, the sun begins to set. An orange glow emanates from the lingering gray clouds, and a gentle wind rustles through the pines.

courtesy
Robbie Wright

After the Storm

I step outside to a chorus of July flies, and a night cooled by earlier storms. A long legged spider sits encased in his web on my front porch railing, and water still drips from the overhanging plum branches.

The night is dark as the clouds obscure the moon, and the porch light barely illuminates the damp yard. A green tree frog sits under the light, poised to snare the beetle that climbs, oblivious, inches above him.

I walk across the sand to the edge of the road, and the murky pine forest looms before me. Somewhere nearby, a lone mockingbird sings.

courtesy Robbie Wright

Wednesday Musings

A dragonfly soars past my window as I lift the curtain back, and an airplane drifts against a cloudless sky. Near the ground below, a tiny yellow butterfly flutters in the weeds, pausing only seconds as it flits from leaf to leaf.

As a flock of bluejays sails across the field and disappears into the pine forest, and the occasional bee zips across my vision, I sit here in my air conditioned space and struggle to write.

It’s another hot day in the coastal plains of Georgia, with hotter days to follow, and July is fast approaching. My world seems limited to what is behind my curtain, and I struggle with the need to communicate, yet fall short.

I watch the wind stir the young oaks, and two brown thrashers flying between the branches. A gray cat catches my eye as she preens in the brush, and the afternoon shadows begin to fall.

photography courtesy http://rwrightphotography.blogspot.com/

A Monday in Georgia

Outside the window, my blue skies have given way to gray. As Debby churns in the gulf and tries to decide which way she’ll turn, her associating winds rustle through my oak trees and bow the pines.

A lone buzzard takes advantage of the wind currents and sails over the pine forest, while below, a brown thrasher rummages in the brush.

Rolie, the resident tom, makes a bed in the fall leaves between the yucca plants and the bloom-less jessamine vines. His nemesis, Skittle, prefers to sit straight upright in the sand. He stares at me through the window like some soulless Halloween cat, a dash of white on his collar offsetting his otherwise rich black fur.

As afternoon begins to wind down, a bluejay flies through the oak branches and disappears into the field. The first sunlight I’ve seen all day illuminates the clouds and brightens the pines.

Rolie retreats from his leaf bed, pauses to stretch in the grass, then rounds the corner of the house out of sight.

photography courtesy http://rwrightphotography.blogspot.com/

Georgia Afternoon

It’s another 90 degree plus day in Georgia.  A wasp sits beside me on the window ledge behind the curtain, and I am hoping he will mind his own business and let me mind mine.

Outside, a female cardinal enjoys a splash in the birdbath, then flies to a nearby bush to preen. The dog digs a bed in the loose sand under the old Chevy truck, and stretches out for a lazy afternoon nap.

White clouds again adorn a pale blue sky without a hint of rain, and a slight breeze disturbs the stillness.

The View

Outside my window, the world is bright.  A mix of oak, persimmon, and sassafras wave their branches gently in the breeze, and long leaf pines stand sentinel against a pale blue sky.  Motionless white clouds hold no promise of rain as the afternoon wanes, and the dog scurries into the shade.