Author Jay Sturner

Sometimes you go to the mountains. Sometimes, the mountains come to you. We certainly didn’t expect to find a mountain range out on our front porch this morning. But we did, stretched across the back wings of a moth. Say, is that an eagle I see soaring through the peaks? Is that Frodo over there? so much happens in the intricate beauty of a moth’s wing Photo: Red Twin-Spot? My son and I consulted our field guide and that’s what we think it is.

Hermit Thrush sticks to the shadows. When he steps out, it's to remind us that the ghostly voice coming down from the trees truly does belong to a living thing; that yes, he does exist. Mortal or immortal, he doesn't say, and I don't press. Then back to the shadows he goes, perhaps deeper this time, to that mysterious realm where the songs of all thrush kin are born. Painting by Art by Alyssa Gallery at  www.alyssawatters.com