Physics tells us that if an object is perspiring, the object is hotter than the average. As one can almost see blurry lines right in front of them, creating a barrier between the object and said person, and being able to identify these blurry lines as particles of heat waves. The third law of thermodynamics is at play here, and one can only vast in its beauty....

The kettle is opaque but the rhythmic sound of the bubbles accumulating in the vessel gives proof that the water is ready for pouring.

The loose leaf tea rests in the teapot as if eagerly awaiting the bath of the boiling water. Alchemy is around the corner.

As the water begins to exit the kettle, the steam rises into the air. Not like smoke, but like the song of an exhale being breathed out.

...

As I typically utilize the crockpot together with its ceramic pot, I was clueless as to the heat contained in its rim. Over the holidays, I attempted to make mushroom onion sauce in the crockpot in a small disposable metal pan. As I leaned over to retrieve it, my arm brushed against the rim, causing a moment of extreme pain and a burn that still resembles a small portion of that outer rim. A remin...

A soft chilly breeze whispers by

A chill in the air is brought nigh

The season of autumn waves a hand

As winter releases a snowy band

It’s winter! Look around and see

The blanket of snow that covers the trees

A frigid wind makes itself known

As temperatures drop far down below

The icy hills are showing a shiny top

And sneaky storms seem to never stop

A winter in Saskatchewan is always fun

When ...

To determine the temperature of something you have to find if it is hot or cold...

My cat, his temperature? It’s the kind that radiates peace into your chest when you’ve been woken up in the night. His purrs crackle and lull you back to sleep. His temperature is the rise of your heartbeat when you first see him and the soothing of so once he’s in your arms. His fur, like a blanket, familiar. Hes’s drug like, melatonin, but its never enough, just one more pet, one more kiss. Like...

The sun on a saturday morning

Beautiful shades of orange and red

seeping through the windows

Fresh baked cookies

Soft in the middle and a crunch on the edges

Bundeled up in blankets

reading late at Night

Laundry fresh out of the dryer

A wonderful delight

A cup in my hands

Giving me strength and energy

A firm hug

Holding me peacefully

A blush creeping into my cheeks

An overused screen

A day for po...

A large gray pot is on the stove. Under it, I can see the flames heating what’s inside the pot, and the pot itself. Small droplets of water are running down the sides of the pot to the flames of the stove. The delicious smell coming from the pot makes me want to open it and eat all the food. But, the flames under the pot discourage me. I put a kitchen glove on my right hand to avoid the burn from ...

Blue jazz drifts from the scratching of a cheap record player nestled in the corner of a cool apartment on a winter’s morning. A woman stands with her hip resting against the tiled counter. Blearily watching 2 cracked eggs, cradled around sizzling tomatos and garlic, cook until the transparent whites firm. Resting next to her is a brown paper bag, a bag who’s logo reflects the old bakery outside. ...

The air could have crackled, it felt like a fire ripping through the air. Beyond the limestone walls, pocked with sun-bleached mosses, that guarded our suburb like a fortress, the asphalt glimmered and waved. One wished to wave back, only as a meager offering in case this might put the fire out. The summers could never be so kind....