yesterday,
the view from my writing desk
looked like this:

Evening112811d

and this:

Evening112811c

yesterday there were torrential rains.
impromptu falls sprang up
throughout the forests,
while this one
swelled into
places that
haven’t felt water
in i don’t know how long.

yesterday
the water was
boisterous
and loud,
oh my goodness
it was loud.

yesterday
the water
turned the color
of heavily-milked
coffee,
muddied
agitated
with the debris
that floated in
from who knows where
and how far away.

today,
my view looks like this:

Viewfromwritingtable

it’s still cloudy
(this time with snow) but
the water has
receded
and cleared
to a shade of whiteness.
the tree that
was in danger
of drowning
yesterday,
now rises
above the falls,
relieved,
i’m sure.

then there’s the
birdfeeder.
birds flock to it
when there’s food
to be had.
they perch on
nearby branches,
politely
(and sometimes
not so politely)
waiting their turn.
squirrels, who would
empty the feeder
in short order,
race up and down
trees
in search of
a bridge,
a way to trespass.

the constant roar
of the water
is occasionally
punctuated
with the
thunk
of a bird
flying
into the window.
it is
nature’s symphony,
that’s for sure.

yesterday
i sat in awe
of the power of
that water
frolicking over
rocks
on its way down
to the lake.
today i
marvel at
the resiliency,
at its
tenacity.
rocks do not
deter it,
they just add
dimension.
logs and limbs
become
playmates,
transported
with the flow,
occasionally
becoming stopped
by a boulder,
but then along
comes a surge
of water,
and the log
is freed.

my falls
are
unapologetically
affected by the
changing
weather conditions.
sometimes,
just for “the fun of it”,
visitors
toss in trash,
and the falls
remain unaffected
as it whisks
the foreign
items away,
depositing them
who knows where.
one thing’s for sure:
the falls will not
hold onto
garbage.

other things you should know about my falls:
this water
doesn’t hold onto
yesterday
and
doesn’t
waste
one nanosecond
concerning itself about
tomorrow.
this water
swells
and dwindles,
it roars
and it hums,
it romps
and it dawdles,
this water flows
without ceasing
always
and
only
in the present.