The Meadows, IX: Midnight
AT MIDNIGHT, THE MEADOW is mere shapes filtered through the darkness. In a huddle of cloud and fog, barn, fence, tree, and hillside are barely discernible, directing my attention to Continue reading
Author: Russell Steven Powell
The Meadows, VIII: Bioluminescence (two views)
THE MEADOW REVOLVES in fireflies, reflecting the starry sky, infinite trails of ephemeral light blinking from every thorax. AS EVENING ADVANCES, the meadow blurs. Grasses, fireflies, clouds splash across the slow wash Continue reading
The Meadows, VII: Wildflowers, 6 p.m.
LOCATION IS EVERYTHING. Sulphur cinquefoil, purple vetch, and pink clover run rampant through the wild grasses, subtle jewels in a green swell. In the rolling meadow, buttercup, fleabane, and white campion escape Continue reading
The Meadows, VI: Flight of the Honeybee, 4 p.m.
A RARE HONEYBEE’S flight can be recorded in multiple ways, from multiple perspectives: speeding through the charged ionosphere, tireless legs thick with purpose. Part six of a series. Click on Continue reading
The Meadows, V: Seed Heads (two views)
Fifth in a series. Click on images to enlarge.
