Winter Bids us Wonder
The somewhat-wild or what remains so easily bruised our smallest intrusion ever amps and batters unlike a ripple that feathers and fades (the dream-frogs of summer tucked under) may happen a day to holler to howl to weep today is nonesuch day. Morning comes in stillness wakens silence bids us slip and steal through haunts and hither find a presence made of absence where lichen-light shimmers secret love and wordless emptiness, draw near.
*Early morning bobcat (Lynx rufus) in Fremont County, Iowa. Once common now rarely seen, it shares deep winter silences with those in search of solitude. Photo by Courtney Stormberg. **Becoming a Naturalist 66, prose-poem by Jack Phillips.