April showers bring?  What was it again?  Towers?  Hours?  No.  April showers bring intense Spring scours.  Yes, that’s a word, and yes, I had to look it up to make sure I was using it correctly.  Scours:  noun 1.  the action…

Late Summer’s beauty and vigor began to wane, but she put on a brave face as August will be sauntering in, hot and heavy, as she’s known to do.  She held a secret and plenty of tricks up her sleeve. …

The water was utterly still, glass-like, and the deepening sky reflected off its surface as the fog rose slowly and tumbled towards the shore. The water made not a sound as the wind fizzled to a whisper, and the lake…

Late Summer’s beauty and vigor began to wane, but she put on a brave face as August sauntered in, hot and heavy.  She held a secret and plenty of tricks up her sleeve.  She was ever the opportunist. Late Summer…

The Summer lull seemed to come early, along with rising temperatures and a lack of any meaningful rain.  August will soon be upon us, and contrary to popular belief, she would bestow a dynamic landscape of possibility and change.  And…

The water was utterly still, glass-like, and the deepening sky reflected off its surface as the fog rose slowly and tumbled towards the shore. The water made not a sound as the wind fizzled to a whisper, and the lake…

The Summer lull seemed to come early, along with rising temperatures and a lack of any meaningful rain.  August will soon be upon us, and contrary to popular belief, she would bestow a dynamic landscape of possibility and change.  And…

The frothy, white clouds whipped into stiff peaks by the restless, erratic winds.  Shards of sunlight pierced the spaces in between, glimmering wildly upon the ground.  August would soon arrive, the seasonal lull, but she would bestow a dynamic landscape…

Catkins rained down upon the landscape, like a Spring storm, and amassed along driveways and sidewalks where they gathered like tumble weeds in a desert.  Spring has thus far delivered no measurable rain, and we find our selves in a…

Brittle was the air, thin and slicing.  The landscape creaked and moaned in its fragility – comforted only by the insulating embrace of snow.  February did more than whisper her intentions.  She hissed them. It will be some time before…