A Persistence of Contrails

A contrail graced the sky in morning darkness
Hung over Venus, under Orion
Persisted through twilight
Stretched, twisted, and morphed into dawn
Birthed contrails at sunrise
Contrail conspiracies are made of these

Cranes roosting in the shallows at twilight

Jake at south beach

Cranes

I doubt this tree will be standing tomorrow morning

Through the portal once again. This is closer to how dark it is when I walk through, spirits clawing at my jacket as I pass through.

Geese in the distance in view of the expanding contrail.

Back at south beach

Sunrise

Doppel

Spunk: “Whoa! Those contrails are scary!”

Not a cloud or contrail in the sky at sunset.

Same Old Stuff

Daddy Owl sits in the same old spot, basking in the yellow light of the low-hanging sun.
The Sandias turn the same old pink under clear blue skies.
The same old constant stream of crows flying from nowhere to somewhere at dusk.
Cranes land on the same old sandbar.
The same old flying V head into the sunset.
The same old sunset colors surround the trees.
The same old stars hanging in the east.
Same old stars hanging in the west.
Same old Jupiter peeking through the trees in the southern sky.

I took the same old walk. Got the same old photos. The same old stuff.