Breaking Stillness

Still there’s a slice of iceencasing the marsh as glass;stiff, sharp becomes a screenprotecting you from prey.Visions of rich, dense duck weedand brown, earthy tuffs ofmarsh grass huddle waiting for cloudless sky.But morning chill tellsanother story of early spring. Buried deep you rest. With scentof spring playing games ofhide and seek; you find no aromaContinue reading “Breaking Stillness”