On windy days, I like to imagine that Mother Earth is passionately digging her painted fingernails into the shoulder of Father Sky

When I'm in a poetic mindset, I like to imagine the bright red blooms of Indian Paintbrush waving in the breeze as the painted fingernails of Mother Earth, endlessly caressing the spacious expanse of Father Sky.  On especially windy days, I fancy that she is digging her nails passionately into the shoulder of the Sky, insistent that his Sunlight come and illumine her beauty in all of its glory.

Photo: Indian Paintbrush at Logan Pass; Glacier National Park, MT; August 1, 2013