Somewhere Above

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:


Shadow of the week:

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

The Ebb and Flow of Evensong

The sizzling heat of late summer days
seems to slow the flow of time
to a sultry slog.
The sun sets red and gold,
making way for a cooler time of day—
well, technically, a degree or two lower,
but can we truly call it cooler?
Twilight radiates with leftover heat,
and it’s too hot to open the windows.
Even a breeze through the screen
blows hot air.
My windows-open,
listen-to-nature heart
sighs at this season
sealed behind double panes of glass.
But I discover that if I’m quiet and still,
I can hear beyond closed windows.
Night bugs are beginning
their ebb and flow of evensong,
joined by squeaky yips from a chipmunk
somewhere among the trees,
which are now only
bulky, billowy silhouettes
with scalloped and fringed edges
against the rich blue-violet sky.
A bird adds to the chorus with chirps
that sound like a repeated question
asking the chipmunk, What? What?
I think I know the answer to what?
My cat is outdoors,
so the chipmunk’s yip is no doubt
a danger signal to its family and friends
as well as a warning to the cat.
As darkness deepens
and swallows the silhouettes,
my cat comes inside.
Chips and chirps slow,
taper to a stop,
leaving evensong to the insects.
This is a choir you can hear
even though windows are closed.
But I suspect that the heart
must be open.
-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 2025. All rights reserved.