Recalling June Flowers

by Lizl/Liz Bennefeld2020/03/22

Between snowfalls

by Lizl/Liz Bennefeld2020/02/062020/02/06

leaves uncovered by melting snow — Melting

Light from the East

by Lizl/Liz Bennefeld2020/02/052020/02/05

tree branches and a dried leaf still on the winter branch, caught by the morning light — Shadows and Light

After the winds blow

by Lizl/Liz Bennefeld2020/02/042020/02/04

my first motion picture…
dead leaves and branches falling
swept across the snow

NaHaiWriMo 2020, day 2 prompt: “first movie”

Childhood memories: autumn storms, blizzards, branches tumbling to the ground from the dozen cottonwood trees surrounding the house, viewed through floor-to-almost-ceiling windows five feet across. The bright flash of a lightning strike running down a towering tree, splitting the bark and tossing branches. And then the thunder clap, the feeling of the ground’s shaking. Our shaking at such a close call. In my later years, I am content that we have no tall, full-branched trees anywhere in our yard.

Note: Still having problems seeing adequately without my eyeglasses, which seem always, these days, to be in a room where I’m not. Please forgive any typos. I am not getting up to look for the glasses. —EWB