There are No Reruns in Nature

Yesterday, looking out my window,
it was still.
The dogs and I were waiting for a visitor.
Even in that stillness,
subtle movements started occurring.

Today is a virtual fast dance. The
meager but cold snow flurries of an
hour ago changed to a bitter wind
testing the leaves and tall grasses
to see of what they are made.

No two snowflakes are alike,
nor are any two days the same.
There are no reruns in nature. And
each day foreshadows the next, if
only we would read the clues.

P.S. for J.A.

I often have the dilemma
whether to use line, tone, or color.
What I do depends
on whether I'm feeling
austere, bold, or flamboyant.
As well, it depends on what is
particularly challenging me.
Sometimes I get stuck with
one medium and turn to another.
And sometimes, what seemed like
a good idea, wasn't.