
winter winds blow brisk
dark skies strip warmth, steal hope, joy;
remember summer
hold tight, my dear ones
bundle and cocoon yourself,
summer will return
Haiku and photo by Angie Quantrell


winter winds blow brisk
dark skies strip warmth, steal hope, joy;
remember summer
hold tight, my dear ones
bundle and cocoon yourself,
summer will return
Haiku and photo by Angie Quantrell


blaze of summer’s last
fling; scarlet burns in sunlight
leaves aflame with light
fire by Angie Quantrell
Photo credit: Angie Quantrell, November 2019, Columbia River State Park, Washington

woods, stream, leaves, and fall
collide, put on nature shows-
such beauty explodes
fall explosion by Angie Quantrell
Photo Credit: Angie Quantrell, Hood Canal, Belfair State Park, WA state
by Angie 6 Comments
SPIDEY SNACK
by Angie Quantrell
Written in honor of Susanna Leonard Hill’s 9th Annual Halloweensie Writing Contest. As Susanna says, “aahhhrrrooooOOOOO!!!!!” It’s time for some fun!
Read more tiny stories at Susanna’s blog here.
SPIDEY SNACK
“Help! I’m stuck in this cobweb!” shouted Bumblebee.
Hedgie looked up. “I’ll help” she called. But how? She was too low, Bumble too high.
In her workroom, Hedgie searched recipes. Grow tall spell? Invisible wings oil? Jumping legs gel?
Hedgie heard a chanting voice. “Hungry, yes, starving! Who’s in my web?”
“Legs is coming!” squeaked Bumble.
A floating spell? That’s the trick.
Hedgie mixed ingredients and chugged the potion. She glided up, grabbed Bumble, and popped open her spines.
“Ouch!” yelled Legs. “Wahhh! I’m still hungry.”
“You may not eat my friend. But do join us for Halloween pumpkin soup.”
by Angie 2 Comments

october? sixteen?
leaves, pumpkins, frosty fall-yes
but not freezing temps
dig out the hats, scarves,
mittens and gloves, heavy coats
cheers for toasty drinks
sixteen degrees by Angie Quantrell
Brr, baby, it’s cold outside! Low teens in October? Frozen pumpkins, water sources, fingers, and noses. My grand thinks now it should snow and there will be icicles and sledding. It’s definitely cold enough, but clear blue skies portend otherwise.
To a week complete with an earlier tiny window of snow flurries (we saw nary a speck), come on winter, we’re bundled up tight.
How’s your weather? What’s your favorite cold weather toasty drink?


why, precious wee orb
fall is here, you are fragile
i fear no hatching
out of season by Angie Quantrell
I discovered this nest yesterday while on a walk. Several other eggs were spread about willy-nilly, but these two were nestled as much as possible. I felt so sad for the out of season eggs. No chance at hatching or survival. Why?
But still beautiful.

colors scream intense
vibrant, exploding passion
swan song before cold
brilliant gemstone hues
garden offspring demand gaze,
dried promise for spring
hastily comes foe
winter breathes down our neck, quick!
capture fall passion
fall passion by Angie Quantrell

Souvenirs of the long summer growing season. Just like that-blink-and cold winds usher in the end of heat and beginning of cold. Get out today and store fall beauty in your mind’s eye to save for the dark cold snowy white and gray days of winter.

by Angie 4 Comments

I was pleased to find this little gem of a photo in my baby book. After losing mom in May, every treasure I uncover has become much more precious. My mama loved her little Angie.
I don’t remember seeing this photo before, though I know I’ve had it for years. Mom despaired of my hair growing and I was often seen sporting a comb-over wave to give the appearance of ample hair. Curly and fine, just like it is today. Though with much more gray.
These irises bloomed in front of my Grandma Wheetley’s house in Sunnyside, Washington. We visited often, I imagine, and this is also the town where my mother and father met and started the journey of lifelong marriage.
Little Angie, as I was nicknamed by grandparents on both sides, is nearly as tall as the gorgeous irises. What I love, besides seeing a much younger, cuter me, is that I obviously love flowers. Just like I do now. These days finds me planting more sunflowers, wildflowers, and blooming bushes, but the beginning of my love affair with gardening sprouted right there with me playing in the irises.
My mama was an excellent seamstress. I can’t ask now, but I think she or my grandmother probably made this dress. I so wish I could sit and pour over these childhood photos with her one more time. My siblings and I were blessed to have a mother who loved us unconditionally. Not that we didn’t get called on the carpet, but good mothers have to do that to straighten out our stubborn bits.
What special memories do you have of your parents or grandparents?