The Seasons: A Poem

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Sunrise over Amazing Grasses Family Farm The mad Artist wields His brush, Painted colors rush, To life and give flush, Before the quiet autumn hush. The life seems to pour, As colors fall to the floor, To be seen no more, Outside the dark, grey door. Brightness from below, Sun upon the snow, High, cold clouds blow, Flakes and ice appear to grow. The man melts with little seen, Underneath, pale, grey green, Hides life in dark unseen, Waits for warmth and to careen. Buds on branches show, Patience starts to grow, Trickles, streams and veins flow, Bringing fruits of melted snow. Sprung to life it springs, Bees, birds, sound rings, Lush green flings, Its gift bounty brings. Green growth gives one last rush, Underneath the Painter's brush. The mad Artist wields His brush, before the quiet autumn hush. More poetry is available from James M. Hahn in  The Last Dragon and Other Poems  available now. My new book of cryptogram puzzles " Secret Messages from the Saints " is avai
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February 6-7 Storm

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The following are pictures from the snow storm last weekend. We got mostly rain and then snow. On Saturday night the temperatures dropped freezing everything in place and the views have been absolutely beautiful.

From the front door looking out.

Looking out the front door across the road before it was cleared.

Cat out hunting.

This is from on top of the hill above and behind our house.

Same area looking Northwest.

Looking North.

North again, saw my shadow... My parents house is in the middle of the picture on the right.

Looking Northeast. Parents house on the left and our house near the middle.

Northwest again, looking at Inboden Road that borders my parents property.

Six more weeks of winter.

Our Lady of the Snow and Ice.

Trees behind the neighbor's house.

Our house and chicken coop. The hop pole is visible too, tear...can't wait till summer.

Aftermath of 4 boys coming inside from the snow.

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