Goddess of the New Year

 SF/Embarcadero/artist Dana Albany

Is any of this yours?

We all have those objects.  Perhaps a single earring from 3 years ago-- missing.  Take a look.  Wouldn't it be nice, to be reunited with that misplaced treasure before the clock closes out this year.  Let's wish each other well.  

 

Upended

 but elegant and porcelain-like.  Good to pay attention to the underside of things.  

After one good rain

the mushroom season begins.  Color and fractal magic.  For the eyes; not the mouth.  

 

Even without sound

 I hear the water rushing, bubbling, sparkling.  I remember red boots and puddles.  

Moving into 2026:

stillness, pure & simple.

 

Clearly, the beginning

of a graphic horror novel.   Otherwise, it's Christmas and life is good.  A long walk and only one dead Canada goose.  
 

Swatch

is such a fun-sounding word, don't you think?   When applied to a segment of brightly-hued Nigerian cloth, just the perfect tablecloth for Victoria on a momentous birthday.  Mary was present.  
 

Meeting in the middle

Sometimes, 2 halves don't make a whole.  Although the picture is quite beguiling, if not the whole.  

December?

Northern California's emerald winter.  Plushness your eyes can feel.   Happy roots.  

 

Feather and ice

Little known fact:  the sun is the stem which melts the ice on every imaginable feather. Little bird, do you wish to fly away solo or in a flock?  

Winter Solstice

As the longest evening settles in, the grandmother tree unfurls a canopy of leaves like a freshly washed sheet.  A smidgeon of moon becomes a modest beacon for the first bird to arrive in this new year.  Most likely a crow with a message.  Listen.  Please.  

'Tis the season

to be drawn inward to those delicious mystical worlds.

 

What is your name at night?

 

Let's keep the light on for each other

 and feed our pets.

For all the pieces in our stories

 pieced together -- gratitude

How are they related?

Are they distant cousins.  Are they looking for the same adventures?

A year later

the eternal is still here.  (4th and Cedar).  Might become a yearly pilgrimage.  

 

Nature

was here first.  Who's trespassing?  

From a pair of glasses to an intricate flower

 

Light-watching

I've been a light-watcher for a very long time.  Every moment is its own moment.  Something to ponder.

Almost too late to the party

Recent wind and rain de-leafed the sugar maples.  I caught one leaf at rest.  

Out of season

 not out of fashion, this lure of berries.

The eye of night

 has always interested me.  How about you?   

No fear from these cats on Halloween.

 Probably no dreams of goblins or skeletons, either.  Treats, of course.  Every evening like clockwork.  

Waiting for a raven

to transgress.  Waiting for a raven to deliver a message as memory recedes.  

 

Halloween

 and the veil slim and porous.  Let us be open to remembering. 

Here in the weaving of leaves

the sound of stories being passed down whenever the air stirs or an animal scurries.  Scimitar pens.  

The story of an extraction.

 Science + large machinery = dismemberment. Somehow, it's fitting that the crane is fire-engine red.  

How I wish to remember her.

How?  By her muscular bicep. The backstory?  Recently 3 giant eucalyptuses were felled by our house.  It was a prudent decision, but I miss their grace.  Their stories.  They alive in memory.  

The disembodied tree

tries to find its branches.  Its roots.  Sky accommodates as best it can given such short notice.  

 

What do you think?

Is this an occurrence of something once whole being shattered?   Or pieces coalescing.  The world needs to hear from you.  

When night becomes your mantle

 it is time for tea and a book.  Or because it is the season, a conversation with the beloved dead.  

Waiting for momentum

to occur.  Waiting for the pinwheel to move from right to left.  

 

The first of the season

 A giant tree insect seen hovering over the eucalyptus.  What owlish being is perched on the upper branches.  Well, it is Halloween.  

The season of the rotund

 with a tad of scary -- or is it sinister?  

September 30, 2025

 haiku's birthday.  

He would be have been 22 years. RIP, sweet imp!

Life Lesson #10,929

 

Sometimes it is as simple as looking up at the exact right moment.  Otherwise you might miss the left eye of a buck.  

A mop of pollen

for a hat, imagine that.  What other silly rhymes have you encountered today for which you are not so pleased.  Check your email.  

Zeroing

                      in on the subtleties  of a purple dahlia.  For instance, the light in its centerfold.  What subtlety needs to be scene in this moment?  

 

Organic serotonin

I imagine the words Freddy and Fritz are dreaming-up for me.

 

Like people, some places

 immediately attract you and wish only to linger.  Here's to those people, to those spaces.  

 

Sometimes a tree,

especially its roots, need the assurance of a sky.  This eucalyptus has found  home.  

 

The good news:

 

No coyote will get this outdoor kitty.  

My favorite landscape

And guesses?  Sub-Zero refrigerator at night.  Tempered by the outside influence of color, of course.

How many landscapes do you encounter in a single day?