Nature’s wRest

Gold Leaf Landing

Everything

needs

a place

to

land.

 

 


grav·i·ty
/ˈɡravədē/
noun
The force that attracts a body toward the center of the earth,
or toward any other physical body having mass.

And a time to rest.

The frozen pond

bare branches

and ice encrusted grass.

Seasons Fading Like Leaves

It’s an off season

but natural in its own right.

There’s no familiar summer, winter, spring or fall anymore

except for dates on a calendar.

Can we explain it away,

simply say the weather is as diverse as people, places, life —

that to live, to be alive, is to change?

Reduce. Recycle. Reuse they say.

But the seasons?

I am a child of four seasons

picking springtime bouquets

chasing summer fireflies

rolling in leaves

and sledding til numb.

As I matured, adult responsibilities pushed childhood activities to the recesses of my mind.  But, I never dreamed the four seasons of my youth would become a distant memory, something to read about in history books of a time that once was.

As a child, leaves fell in September.

A few years ago they began in August.

This year, my yard was covered in July.

Thunderstorms previously endured in June and humidity that marked August are now daily occurrences commandeering the summer I use to know.  Look forward to.  Love.

The seasons have faded like leaves…

Is it a natural progression of time

the human disregard for the natural order of things

or Mother Nature’s retribution?

Spring and Autumn have silently been waving good-bye

but we were too busy, too greedy, too self-centered to notice.

Reduce.  Recycle.  Reuse.

Two seasons:  hot and cold.

two

Hot and cold.

Nature Teacher: Change

Look at the movement of the clouds

and understand

life is change.

Don’t waste your time

lamenting

things are not as they were

and will never remain so.

That is not the truth of reality.

Forever cannot be.

Look at the clouds

long stratus

puffy cumulus

and feel their struggle and joy.

Clear skies,

when things are going smoothly, no issues to deal with so to speak,

are also transitory.

Go with the flow,” others say.

The clouds already do.

 

A garden then and now…

No surprise to me, this inspirational sentiment about a garden’s virtues.  What is surprising though, is that it was written by the Persian poet Saadi who lived more than 700 years ago.  Can you imagine the beauty he beheld then, before industry dominated our planet?  If I find a garden breathtaking now, I wonder what it was like for Saadi to see?  Could it have been even more beautiful…more uplifting, more astonishing than the way it fills my heart now?

 

Winding Roads

Someone read a poem today.
That made me think

The winding road
is
our lives.

images (3)

Many of us reach the same destination.
Albeit different ways,
Different paths, whys, hows,
with different words
for the same concept —
a nearly same experience.

Isn’t that the wonder of our uniqueness
yet sameness?

images (4)

We begin a path, a book, a plan,
then change course
for whatever reason.
A break-up.
Job loss.
Dying desire
to live
one’s passion.

Altering our course
we may step back
and the change brings greater challenges
we did not forsee
ahead
images (7)

 

yet we gain along the way
from what we did not know,
And then it is behind us.

 

 

Why focus on the end
when we never know
when
the end will truly be?

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Fluent by John O’Donohue

I would love to live
Like a river flows,
Carried by the surprise
Of its own unfolding.

 

Savoring Sunday’s Symphony

800px-Symphony_No._8_in_B_minor
Schubert’s Unfinished Symphony No. 8

 

Guilt

slips in

and around

the cool morning breeze

for taking time

to slip into

my favorite summer chair

and be

in Sunday morning.

A confident breeze eases the heat

on my sun-warmed skin,

stroking my cheek

with the only classical music

absent of customary stuffiness —

Mozart, Bach, Gershwin, Schubert’s “Unfinished” symphony no. 8

that speak to me.

My eyes lock

on the blooming garden

framing a photo

in my mind.

Plants grown tall

like children —

spires of yellow and false indigo baptisia

3′ bearded iris and phlox

electric blue-violet geraniums

and newborn pink roses

sway in a wave of color

Garden July 2015 037 chair662015 Landscape 065 baptisia gardenbearded iris99 Dana Street 027662015 Landscape 179 blue geraniumGarden chair

blending the whoosh of cars

with the wind,

an airplane speck roaring across the sky,

piano keys amidst tinkling and wooden chimes…

and birds chattering

in countess dialects

to the crackle of ice

in my juice,

interrupted

by the boom-boom base

of a teenager’s car

thankfully passing by…

It’s a privilege to take time

and savor Sunday morning.

Listen

and “be.”

Just be.

Set aside

the long heard demands

of productivity

rushing me

at this address.