morning
on my deck facing west I say to myself, “I live next to a river of ferns.”
in direct sunlight the ferns are almost translucent
bright green waving beds of ferns
punctuated by small yellow flowers bright in the sun orange farther back in the shade
above me and also to the west a protector hemlock with friendly lilacs to my north
on a dull backdrop of human sounds the sounds close by are birds
and an occasional fly or bee
evening
I thought perhaps I had imagined it the gold and green but then as the light faded there it was
the bower of ferns muted green and gold a luscious blend a 10 minute frame within a frame
outlined by presence