Above the Backyard World

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

A robin sits at the summit
of the garage next door,
peers out from the peak
as if he is the sentinel,
the lookout,
the guardian
of bird world.
He looks left and right,
bobs his head,
preens his flight feathers,
scans the backyard scene again.
He’s a living roof ornament,
his plump rust-orange belly topping off
the brown-shingled A-line roof
and tan stucco walls
as if some designer had chosen him,
exactly him,
and carefully placed him there.
And perhaps some Designer did.
-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.

For the Price of a Pause

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Spring tiptoed in during the night.
I didn’t expect her so soon.
Winter may yet wave
a final icy farewell,
but today the air hums with Spring,
and I have paused my plans
to revel in her return,
to wonder at the newborn world.
Daffodils dance in a drowsy flowerbed.
Tiny purple blooms run wild in the grass.
Pear trees show off snowy white blossoms.
Lenten roses raise their faces, blushing.
Above in barely budding trees,
birds chatter and cheer and
sing welcome
as if they’ve been secretly saving,
all winter long,
this exact song
for this exact moment.
The breeze, mild and gusty,
flirts with the flowers,
ruffles the robin’s feathers,
whispers to the bluebird
a hint of rain to come.
I marvel at Nature’s generosity.
For the simple price of a pause,
she pours out to me more than I can hold—
seasonal symphonies of sound and song,
an ever-changing gallery of shifting colors,
shapes and shadows
coming and going and coming again,
all mine to see, to hear,
to hold in my heart,
all for the price of a pause.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.
Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2026. All rights reserved.

Tangled in a Tree

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

There’s a balloon
caught high in a neighbor’s tree.
I’ve been keeping an eye on it for weeks.
At first it looked like a grand butterfly
flapping oversized wings
as the wind tried to blow it down.
It never dropped but day by day
shrank until it dangled,
entangled and trapped in twiggy tentacles.
Each breath of the breeze
makes it wave like a flag,
flapping and flashing gold-red in the sun.
My mind wants to make something natural of it—
perhaps it’s a precariously perched hawk
or a squirrel out on a limb,
maybe a clump of mistletoe
or an angel trumpet bloom,
maybe one last giant red autumn leaf
clinging to this leafless winter tree.
But this metallic dangling thing is not natural,
probably poses a danger
to birds,
to squirrels,
to buds that will come in the spring.
I once untangled a robin caught in a string
that was, in turn, snagged in a bush.
I once freed a sparrow
whose foot was trapped
in the bars of a feeder.
I remember how helpless they were,
weighing almost nothing
but fighting with every ounce to get free.
So I hope that before a bird is tangled
in this saggy baggy balloon,
the ribbon will wear thin,
the mylar will tear,
and the danger will fall from the tree
to be tossed into someone’s trash can.
But for now, there’s a deflated balloon
dangling high in a neighbor’s tree.
I’ll enjoy the magic of its changing colors
as the sun comes and goes,
the surprise of its shifting shapes
as the wind sighs and blows.
I’ll keep an eye on it.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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A Bluebird Between Storms

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

Between storms,
the whipping wind calms
to an easy breeze
flicking rainwater off
the newborn leaves.
Mama bluebird flits to her birdhouse
with thin dried stems of grass
dangling
from her beak.
She pauses at the entrance,
the just-right-size hole,
glances around,
spies a robin at the birdbath.
Satisfied that he is busy drinking,
she ducks into her house,
reappears seconds later, empty-beaked,
and darts away.
Papa bluebird watches
at a distance
atop a light post
as the robin decides to perch
on the roof of the bluebirds’ house.
Mama bluebird flies back with more straw
but stops short,
resting on a garden ornament,
a shepherds’ crook,
wary of the robin,
this unwelcome visitor.
Papa bluebird casually glides closer
then dives at the robin,
who decides it’s best to be gone.
Mama bluebird flits in again and,
with a wink of blue from her tail,
disappears into her house.
Bluebird wisdom says
be patient
when someone needs to rest
atop your house,
but keep the boundaries clear,
for it is, indeed, your house,
and it is you who are building
your nesting place there.
It’s what we do
in the pause
between storms.
-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week—Mama bluebird peeking out:

Shadow of the week:

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So Many Reasons

Posted by karynhenleyauthor

The sky is crying today,

softly, slowly dripping tears down my windows.

And why wouldn’t it?

The world is rumbling, tumbling,

churning, turning,

so much hurt,

so much hate,

so many reasons to cry.

But past the teardrops on my window screen,

I can see two squirrels

skittering up the trunk of a pine tree,

its branches stretching high

brushing away the tears in the crying sky.

The two squirrels have made a runway

through the deep green maze of pines.

They scamper in stops and starts up and down.

On the way up, they carry bundles of fresh

spring leaves they’ve nibbled off the bushes below.

They’re building a nest near the tip-top

in a thicket of pine needles.

It’s almost invisible, a dark bulk

nestled between branches,

swaying in the breeze.

I assume squirrels do this every spring—

build their penthouse nests—

but this is the first time I’ve seen them

carrying greenery,

refurbishing their nursery.

I suppose they know what they’re doing,

trusting swaying pines

not to toss them out but to rock them,

not to crash but cradle them.

So I’m trusting those little squirrels

and the pine trees too.

I’m trusting the return of spring,

the bloom of dogwood,

the robin hopping along the porch rail.

Trees sway,

skies cry,

the world churns,

but we will gather fresh bundles of hope,

carry them along the mazes of our world,

jump the chasms,

bridge the gaps,

and build at the very top,

stretching high into the crying sky

to brush away the tears.

– kh –

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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