What If You Were the Wind?

What if you were the wind
flowing ‘round the world
in a whirl of hot and cold,
bold enough to blow a house down,
then a day later,
shy of the sky,
whispery, shushing, hiding,
slyly slipping around trees.
What if you roared through mountain passes,
lapped at ocean waves,
played havoc with sand,
then ran out of gusts
to sigh and sway,
breezy,
sneezy,
tousling the grain in the field,
then nosing through a bubble wand
and tossing the bubble,
twirling and swirling it,
until it arced into a yard down the street.
What if you were that bubble
flickering soapy red and green and yellow
as you rolled on the breeze
and laughed at the neighbor who looked up
just as you floated by
dipping, bobbing, and pop!
What if you were the neighbor
who looked up just in time
to see the bubble pop,
and you stopped
to smile awhile.
Oh, but you are the wind,
the bubble,
the neighbor.
At least you were
for these past few minutes.
-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 2025. All rights reserved.

Every Drenched Thing

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:


Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.

Night Has Not Fallen

It’s early twilight,
that gray-blue time of evening
when the neighborhood eases into
the quieter hours of our day.
Chili is simmering on the stove
and the table is set,
so I sit in my rocking chair
to witness the world beyond windows,
to watch the night fall.
“Fall” is a strange way to say it.
Night doesn’t really fall;
it slips in,
seeps through bare, laced branches,
slowly veils the hills.
Tonight the sky is cloud-covered,
a full sweep of blue-gray
gradually growing violet in the east
as if heaven’s light switch
is slowly dimming the day.
It’s a peaceful drift,
moment by moment
as the sky lets go of its dusky gray
and drapes itself in a deepening blue
inviting all who pause and watch
to enter its ease,
to breathe its comfort,
to settle into the serenity of evening
and experience the magic of
twilight blue turning into velvet dark,
whispering calm to a world
that will soon settle into sleep.
No, night has not fallen.
It has snuggled in.
-kh-

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week (made by sun shining through a bottle of syrup):

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2025. All rights reserved.

One Raucous Love Song

 

When the crow calls,

my heart returns to Texas,

to the prairie where I grew up with

stubby mesquite trees,

prickly pear cactus,

crooked-limbed live oak,

swathes of yellow-green pastureland

rugged cattle,

a wide, wild sky holding

thunderheads miles high,

golden-orange-red sunsets

deepening into velvet-dark,

star studded night sky,

and wind,

always wind,

dry wind,

whistling through power lines,

whipping branches,

bowing grasses,

flapping skirts and shirts,

sweeping dust from here to

who-knows-where,

feathering the feathers of the crow

who is maybe related to

the one outside my open window

now carrying me back

hundreds of miles,

dozens of years

with one raucous

love-song of a

caw.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week (look closely and you’ll see a ladybug):

Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Wishing I Could Fly

 

A V of geese, calling out,

crossed the cloud-rippled sky,

and I, below, watched them go,

wishing I could fly.

I’d go west too but visit

every garden on the way

to where the sunset colors glow

and twilight cools the day.

But this is now and that is dream.

I’ve been west, and I know

that here is where life hums to me;

it’s where my gardens grow.

The hug-warm sun sets here as well

and paints the twilight sky.

Still, I look up and fill with dreams

when flocks of geese fly by.

– kh –

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

The Color of Life

 

The poem claimed that life was the color of

“almost pale white robin’s green…”*

I shook my head,

for I know that the color of life

is blue—

blue like the sky,

blue like the sea,

blue for peace that is meant to be,

blue for cool breath,

blue for color-shifting twilight.

its blue-green glow deepening

to velvet blue

as night falls.

I feel the color of life as blue—

the blue-violet of deep thought,

the sharp-edged gray blue of grief,

the airy, floating blue of hope.

Yes. The color of life is blue—

thirst quenching,

soul resting,

heart holding,

dream painting,

wild-and-tame,

up-and-down,

surge-and-rest,

swimming,

swirling,

settling,

soothing

blue.

I see you shaking your head.

What color is life

to you?

– kh –

* from “Eggshell” by Gerald Stern

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

The Sun Yawned

It’s the first day of Spring.

With a slow stretch,

the sun yawns into the deep, still sea of sky,

softens the clear, cloudless blue,

reddens the top branches of the elms,

slowly slides its smiling light down the trunks.

I watch from my upstairs window.

Oh, Spring, at times

I thought you had forgotten us.

But your name is on the calendar square.

I’ve underlined it.

And here you are!

Warmth is drifting through the air, I think,

anticipating a day without a coat,

maybe even without a sweater.

I’m thinking bluebirds,

white blossoms on the dogwood,

seeds to be planted,

spring-fresh air to breathe.

Then I notice the roof of the first floor

just beneath my window.

The shingles glitter with frost.

I flick my phone to the weather.

Twenty-six degrees.

Twenty-six!

Oh, Winter,

you may be gone,

but in your wake, you’ve left a chill.

Of course you have,

for it’s only

the first day of Spring.

– kh –

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Over the Pines and Elms

 

A blanket of soft, silver-gray clouds

covers the morning sky

as far as I can see.

Even indoors, I feel the weight of it.

 I try not to see it as gloomy

but as a protective roof

over the pines and the bare elms.

All is still and quiet.

The whole world seems to have taken

a day off.

Rest, the clouds say.

Rest after this busy, crazy year.

Rest under this silver gray blanket of sky.

– kh –

From Noticing: 365 Days of Calm Reflections

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2022 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Nature’s Simple Wisdom

 

Go forth under the open sky,

and listen to Nature’s teachings.

William Cullen Bryant

 

What is Nature teaching me? To listen, I think. The world will circle on with or without me. The evening star will rise. Clouds will sail the skies. Cicadas will buzz. Crickets will chirp. Trees will dance in the wind. Seasons will glide in and then pass on. Nature says to simply breathe deeply and listen. (From my new book Noticing, available now.)

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2022 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

The Sky’s Gift

It is the sky that makes the earth so lovely at sunrise,

and so splendid at sunset.

In the one it breathes over the earth the crystal-like ether,

in the other liquid gold.

painter Thomas Cole

A wondrous sky greets this cold, crisp morning. It’s criss-crossed with contrails, probably due to holiday travel. Toward the horizon, a wide sweep of thin, feathery clouds spans the blue like a skyscape dry-brushed in white across a deep blue canvas. All this, and the sun is still on the rise. It’s painting tree tops gold, while their lower trunks and branches rest in twilight shadow. The sky is breathing over the earth, waking it up with beauty.

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 © 2022 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.