Storm-Glow

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

This evening radiates storm-glow
from the sunset bouncing off
orange-pink thunderheads
and filtering through the dusky air
like fairy-tale gold dust
lightening leaves, brightening blooms,
making the garden blush every hue
from yellow-orange marigolds
to red-orange nasturtium
to soft, subtle pink-orange coral bells.
Awash in this orange-veiled light,
a contented chorus of cicadas
plays an exuberant hum-buzz of evensong.
Even as they zing and sing
and celebrate this brilliant evening,
daylight subsides,
orange fades into a pale dusky pink.
Trees darken
as the fire of the sky
sinks over the horizon
taking the blush of the world with it,
leaving behind shade and shadow.
But now the neighbors’ windows
glow orange from the inside
as if, in passing, the storm-glow smiled on us
and lit windows all around
to carry our day-warmed hearts
into a welcome-home rest
while the looming clouds
turn into rain.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

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The Wonder of Waiting

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

As I wait for my grandson
in the school pickup line,
a breeze meets me,
and I turn my face to fully feel it.
Summer-green hills doze in the distance.
Thin, feathered clouds float in a lazy drift.
The afternoon sun warms my arm.
I sip toasty-sweet, cooling coffee,
listen to the call of birds
and the footsteps of one of the
after-school cleaning crew.
She checks her watch
as she make her way between cars
to the school building.
The woman in the next car
gathers her hair,
smooths and gathers,
smooths and gathers,
and at last decides it’s good enough
to twist a scrunchie around it,
her phone in selfie mode as a mirror.
Then she goes back to scrolling.
Everyone seems to be bent over
their phones, which is exactly
what I would be doing
if I hadn’t accidentally left my phone at home.
I am untethered to technology,
drifting along with the day,
soothed by the sights and scents and sounds
of the real, here-and-now world.
I inhale its richness and revel in the wonder
of waiting.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week (look closely—can you find the goldfinch?):

Shadow of the week:

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Volcanic Vibes

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

The last days of summer stretch ahead
like a lava flow
halfway down a mountain
having burned and buried
the past weeks
on the way to burning and burying
the next few.
Hydrate, I remind myself.
The red-hot glow of summer
swims in sweltering waves
broken by brief breezes,
wisps of half-hearted wind
drifting away to elsewhere,
anywhere
cool.
It might help to hydrate,
I whisper to them,
hoping for rain.
I grew up in the dry summers
of West Texas,
where we saw mirages
on the highway,
and someone was always ready
to prove you could really and truly
fry an egg on the sidewalk.
One hot afternoon,
I left my baby doll, Connie, outside
on the concrete patio
in the mid-day midsummer sun.
She really and truly melted.
I wonder now,
in this overheated summer:
how hot do these volcanic vibes
have to be
before I melt too?
I grab my glass of water,
toast the veil-thin clouds and coax them,
Hydrate.
Fill yourselves
then spill yourselves.
Cool us and quench us
and hydrate us too.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

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Daydrift

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Morning came like a gentle hug today,
sunrise shadowed by low clouds,
rain sprinkling window screens,
spattering the panes,
showering softly,
soothing my unsettled soul.
Morning came like a gentle hush,
a nudge to linger in the lull
between sleeping and waking,
to rest in the dimness of dawn,
to let this day drift in.
It’s been a while since we’ve had
this kind of rain,
a straight-down, soak-the-roots rain.
So I take my time,
drift into wakefulness,
drift into the kitchen for coffee,
drift into my easy chair,
sip from my steaming cup,
and watch a robin on the porch rail
letting the rain roll off his back.
Two squirrels sit atop the swingset,
their tails curved over their backs
like umbrellas.
A cardinal with water-darkened feathers
breakfasts from the feeder.
A chipmunk darts in and out
among a maze of flowerpots.
Black-eyed Susans turn fresh faces to the sky,
petals and leaves outstretched
as if saying, “Welcome, friend rain.
So good to see you.”
The morning wraps its comfort
around my cares
and cradles my concerns
so I can carry them quietly, calmly.
Welcome, friend rain.
So good to see you.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

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Somewhere Above

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Somewhere above the twilight clouds
there are stars.
Always stars.
Timeless stars.
When a spring evening like this,
cool and rainy,
paints overcast skies deep violet
and turns trees into ruffled silhouettes,
when the wine-red triangles
of burgundy shamrocks
take a hint from the fading light
and fold themselves like tiny umbrellas,
when the cat snuggles into my lap
for fur-soft cuddles,
then time itself seems to pause
for one last look
at the wondering, wandering world
at the close of day.
For one moment,
two,
three,
time holds its breath,
listens,
lingers.
And then,
soft as a sigh,
it drifts into night.
And somewhere above the clouds
there are stars.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2026. All rights reserved.

I Looked for the Moon

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I looked for the moon tonight,
wanting to find this faithful friend
who’s currently a waxing crescent.
I wanted to admire her curve,
contemplate the stars beyond,
feel the wonder of time
stretched
into eternity.
I wanted to sit with her serenity awhile.
But the night sky is crowded with clouds
reflecting city-shine,
making the darkness nightlight-soft,
vanishing the vastness of deep space
and disappearing the moon.
Still, the moon is in her place
up in the cold silence
and still, I am in my place
down in the warm hope of home.
The moon is so ancient
she will not remember me.
But I remember her.
I close my eyes, see all her moods,
her shifts and shapes
from plump and playful
to a bright bowl pouring out stars
to a slim curving thread of possibility.
I see all her colors,
her brilliant bride-white joy,
her reddened omen eye,
her haloed softness,
her rising orange-gold bravado.
Sometimes she’s a sky-sailing galleon,
sometimes a pale canoe
caught in the branches of a tree.
I looked for the moon tonight
and found her in my heart.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2026. All rights reserved.

Every Drenched Thing

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Every drenched thing bows to the rain—
branches weighed down with water,
marigolds sated and soggy,
lilies drooping and dripping.
This is not a cool, crisp perk-me-up rain
but a bucket dump so heavy
that it will leave a sultry, thick wet blanket
lazing on the lawn,
steaming the garden.
As the downpour eases to a steady silver shower,
clouds drift apart,
sunlight elbows through,
I scan the sky expectantly,
hopefully…
and I am not disappointed.
Against a billowed backdrop
of blue-gray clouds,
a veil of color gently curves,
gift of rain and sun,
sign of hope,
smile of God,
heaven’s arms holding space,
sharing the secret that all light holds:
a glorious variety of hues,
reminder of the glorious variety of humans,
of plants, animals,
rocks, rivers,
skies, seas.
I can’t help but smile and hope,
for on the other side of the rain
there is a luminous bridge,
arcing in a joyful embrace of us all.
On the other side of the rain
is a rainbow.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

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Other Places, Other Times, and a Gentle Rain

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

The rain did not blow in
the way it often does.
It came straight down
in threads of silver barely visible
against the backdrop of trees.
But I can hear the gentle wash of it
like a stream running over rocks.
It matches my mood—
serene, soft, pensive,
at the shallow end of sadness.
A nuthatch flits from the feeder,
skims across the roof of the garage,
disappears into dark green undergrowth.
My cat is antsy, pacing.
It’s not a day to go out,
which bothers the cat
but suits me just fine.
A breeze drifts through open windows,
and thoughts of other places,
other times
that once stormed through my memory
now shower slowly down with the rain.
My heart is full and grateful—
grateful for the past,
grateful that it’s long gone,
grateful that I can gladly let it go.
A lazy rumble of thunder rolls in.
The cat runs,
but this deepest growl of the clouds,
this sharpest bite,
fades to silence
along with those deepest, sharpest memories.
I close my eyes,
lean back and listen
to the chorus of hopeful birdsong
that circles through
the showering rain.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

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Spring Storm Symphony

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

A river of storm-strong air,
cool and damp,
poured through my open window,
and swept across my bed,
a stream of fresh silver morning
filled with whispers of rain to come,
this news confirmed moments later
by the timpani of the heavens,
a deep-throated drumroll of thunder,
or as we used to say,
angels bowling
or God’s voice rumbling,
“I am here, I am near.”
Then in one delicious moment,
the innocent-looking layer of clouds
releases a world-class waterfall.
It’s a symphony of storm—
wind, thunder, rain—
in a rushing cascade,
a wet, splashing tumble of spring
with surprise guest artists
singing through the storm:
a chorus of birds.
Each time the rain and wind diminish,
the birds crescendo.
Their whistles, chirps, and chortles
sound like celebration,
like gratitude,
like sweet contentment,
like aren’t you glad to be right here,
right now,
refreshed
on this splendid silver morning?
Yes, beautiful symphony.
Yes.
I am.
– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

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Winter’s Brittle Beauty

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

I am warm-weather at heart,
loving all things green and growing,
but when bare elms stretch
in latticework across the sky
and pine branches bow to a cold, fresh wind,
when clouds layer softly in shadowed grays,
and dried blooms and crisp leaves stand stiff as straw,
when marigold seed pods dangle on their stalks,
and basil seeds shelter on tiers of miniature pagodas,
when frost dusts shingles,
and smoke rises in lazy curls from a neighbor’s chimney
and the scent of wood smoke drifts through the air,
when a chilly in-breath fills my lungs and clears my head,
then I am grateful for Winter,
for her brittle beauty,
for Nature’s season of rest.
The world seems somehow simpler,
and I am simply grateful.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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