There are landscapes in our dreams

 only our eyes and sometimes our hands traverse.  This is one of them.  

December?

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

 

When this eucalyptus flowers

 

it's a party for the eyes.  

Where does the light

emanate to grace a surreal landscape?  Were you present or did you read about this phenomenon?  Did you touch this happening only with your eyes and not your feet?  
 

Litany

The kitchen is made for cooking
the ear for words
the street for eyes,
grateful.

Bernal Heights on a rainy Saturday