Not windy as we thought it would be. Light breeze spins a metal orb; shelf fungus grows in a tree knot.
Spring, the first of many buds, of many mushrooms, honey colored. They make the most of rain. Draw it into gills that spore. The dogs sniff around, giddy.
Soon enough another front will come. We’ll hunker inside. Soon enough a fierce February like last February when soil sogged and trees uprooted.
We live by the weather, uncertain what else might give way, grateful the sun shines, for now. Then watch the world move fast past points of no return.
Monica lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and two foster dogs. She taught parents how to raise their toddlers for twenty-five years before retiring in 2015 to write. The secret to toddlers is to make sure you get enough sleep. Monica hasn't found the secret to writing, yet, but is diligently working at it. See links to her on-line stories on the publications page.
View all posts by Monica McHenney
Monica's Monday Morning Flash 