Crows

Something died, I just know it. I opened my window to see what all the racket was about and the smell of death crept into my window.

I could have gone down to explore it, but I didn't care enough to leave my room.

quiet now...listen.

it was only a light drip on the new green leaves just outside my window but i could not ignore it.

that same rain was in the process of recovery from a long winter of cold, lonely drops from sky to earth with no leaves to soften the fall.

now the sky sends down its grateful drops to greet the spring.

Family Meal

With dishes clinking and accompanied by a chorus of birds (one perched on the wire just above my head) a family cleans up after their late afternoon meal.

Dog barking and distant hammering remind me of lazy Saturday afternoons with dad working on something in the garage while our dogs chased squirrels through the woods, leaves flying in all directions as bushy tails scrambled up the trunks of pine wood trees.

Petes Morning Shave

My housemate pete shaves his face every morning. The electric buzz of the razor hums across his face and within a minute his skin is smooth and stubble free.

I wondered why he shaves every morning.

Listen as Pete tells the story behind this daily ritual: