the winter wrens chirping in the trees
the stellar jays squawking at some injustice
the barred owl hooting in the woods
relocating geese honking unseen across the valley
the incomparable perfume of evergreen after rain
these linger in memory
all that remains is the photograph
of the rising sun slanting through the mist
waking the meadow from its slumber
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Gretchen Staebler
I am a Pacific Northwest native transplanted to the southeast for 36 years. In 2012, I returned to my childhood home and fell in love with this corner of the country again. I am a grandmother, a storywriter, a teacher, an attention payer, a hiker, and a back roads wanderer. Check out my website (and my memoir) at www.gretchenstaebler.com.
View all posts by Gretchen Staebler
Writing Down the Story 