SIDEWALK COSMOS

Wednesday, September 12, 2012.  There is so much to see in this tight little space.  I was initially drawn back to this small patch of green moss in a sidewalk depression, with its tiny stones nestled in a crease.  Then I saw the rusted patch of cement, the remnants of a street sign that once stood here and bled its metallic life out and away after repeated rains.  I am still - and again - drawn to the green moss, pushing life into the unlikeliest of places.

WOOD SNAKE

April 14, 2010. In the early morning light the grasses and moss have an electric edge to them and their colors shimmer in the indirect rays of the coming sun. The moss wraps and caresses this old root, the edges soft and rounded from exposure and wear. It curves across this space where it is exposed, like a snake before it disappears again below the dank earth. I want to remove it, take it with me, retain the beauty that it is, outside of its setting. I don't.

MY WEARY HEAD

December 26, 2010. This little patch of moss off the trail looked like a soft place to lay my weary head. The moss was covering a rock, but still a restful place, the green a moist emerald, already giving succor to stones, twigs and leaves. My head would simply be placed in the open space, joining the rest of nature that found peace here. The weather has been cold, bitingly so, but the moss holds its green, it beckons and promises a gentle repose to those who take its bait.