The beauty in nature


“All right, boys, have you got your binoculars and reptile guides at the ready?”


“You are about to be treated to the sighting of a lifetime, something few nature enthusiasts, even experienced testudinologists, have ever seen on this coast: the Croxley Softshell freshwater turtle. Have you got your cameras?”


“Then let’s move quietly to the crest and shelter behind that Alnus serrulata as we peek over. The Croxley is a shy beast. Make no sound…

“Rise up slowly, binoculars ready… Steady on…”

“Wow. Is that…?”

“Yes, Alex. Those are Croxleys, sure enough.”

“No. Matt, do you see? On the blanket to the left of the pond.”

“It can’t be. Scarlett Johansson and Jessica Alba…?”

“What?…Boys, keep it down. Stop squealing. The turtles are restless.”

“Jeez, they’re beautiful. Getting the full tan, they are.”

“My camera’s got a telephoto lens. Look at these shots!”

“I’ll look later. Jessica’s eating grapes.”

“Crikey. Now you’ve done it, lads. The Croxleys have fled.”

“Sir, we’re going down to get autographs, if you don’t mind.”


Image © Deborah Whittam
For Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie



the resort will be rebuilt

higher up this time



P hoto by Jeremy Bishop via Unsplash
For Three Line Tales



“You’ve got to quit.”

“I can’t quit. We need the money.”

“We need you more than we need the money. You keep getting beat up.”

“I’m paid to get beat up.”

“They couldn’t pay you enough for that. You’re a father .”

“What am I going to do if I don’t fight?”

“What are you going to do when you can’t fight?”

“I used to be able to think. I’ve caught so many to the head, I can’t think anymore. I can’t get another job.”

“Which is harder to get, another job or another family?”


Photo prompt © J Hardy Carroll
For Rochelle Wisoff-Fields-Addicted to Purple



A raven adopted me at my cabin in the north woods. I named him Edgar. We had a casual relationship, based on food and togetherness.

Edgar roamed the woods at will. One day, he brought home a crow, whom I named Allan.

Allan generally gave me a wide berth, unlike Edgar, who would perch on my shoulder. Allan and I competed for Edgar’s affections. I sensed that Allan was gradually winning.

When the two birds built a nest together and Allan laid eggs in it, I changed her name to Ellen.

The hybrid babies took me for their godfather.


For Carrot Ranch Flash Fiction Challenge

dark hills


dark hills under cloud

sun breaks through; gray becomes green

waterthrush pipes up


For Sue Vincent’s Thursday Photo Prompt


spoke today to a
highly placed religious
who tells me
is considering another


For Daily Post



“This argument is going nowhere.”

“Going in circles, true that.”

“Let’s start over.”

“Hit restart.”

“Forget everything we’ve said.”

“No. The opposite. Go over what happened in detail. Word-by-word and what we were feeling and what we were hearing and what we were thinking.”

“I hate it when we do that. Drives me nuts. You can out-talk me every time. You’re a better arguer. I don’t want you talking yourself out of this.”

“If we had a video, we’d replay it. Same thing, only with words.”

“You’re not hearing me. You’re better with words.”

“If I’m better with words, how come we end up going in circles? We have to argue in a different way.”

“You’re going it again, but ok, look. What happens is, we go back and forth too fast. There’s this feedback thing that happens. It’s how we get caught in a loop. Let’s try it slower. When you start talking a mile a minute I can’t think straight. I just begin to resent you.”

“I can go slower, but you’re the impatient one.”

“Show me you’re listening to me and not just waiting to set me straight and I’ll be a lot more patient.”

“Ok… Slowing down… Hit restart.”



For Daily Post