
garden globe beckons
buzzy visitors zoom close
insect flower world
flower world by Angie Quantrell
Yakima Valley
by Angie 2 Comments

garden globe beckons
buzzy visitors zoom close
insect flower world
flower world by Angie Quantrell
Yakima Valley
by Angie 4 Comments

fuzzy fat pods hang
drooping from scrawny stems, then
a pop-py bursts forth
a pop-py
by Angie Quantrell
Yakima Valley
by Angie 10 Comments

mournful calls echo
as watchful parents dash, dart
flycatchers nest here
flap, crack-winged warning
startles, drives out predator
hoping for a snack
poofed fledglings appear
flapping, dropping, flight attemps
offspring launch from home

flycatchers by Angie Quantrell

Every year for the past 7-8, we’ve had a pair of flycatchers nesting in the parking shed. It’s fascinating to watch them. And they eat flies (and all sorts of flying insects). Win-win for us.

mere feet from busy,
yet vibrant abundant life
what else hides unseen?
hidden by Angie Quantrell

Wide Hollow Creek, Yakima Valley
by Angie 2 Comments

lounging alone on
glistening bed, to showcase
my excellent form
lounging alone by Angie Quantrell
by Angie 2 Comments

summer’s seed complete
good food? carved face? fall decor?
possibilities
possibilities by Angie Quantrell
Yakima Valley, from the garden

a stream meanders
like the path my feet follow
where do they travel?
meander by Angie Quantrell
Kruckeberg Botanic Garden
Seattle, Washington
Join us next Wednesday, August 14, when Danna Smith, author of many haiku and rhyming works, will join us and give us tips, strategies, and ideas for writing our own haiku poems! I’m so excited! Plus, she’s giving away not one, but TWO copies of her Poetry Pop journals! Mark your calendars now.
Wednesday. August 14. Poetry Pop. Haiku. #haikumoment
by Angie 4 Comments

heart of sunflower
beams joy to avian friends,
buzzes, and humans
heart of sunflower by Angie Quantrell
Yakima Valley

peek-a-boo face stares
swims, plays coy in the wet sand
rocky bed for fish
rocky bed by Angie Quantrell

this lap is mine, mine,
mine, mine, mine. I will not share.
go away. my lap
mine by Angie Quantrell
Monet claims her favorite lap. And her beloved human. (Not me).