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Archive for the ‘Nature Notes’ Category

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As I work with this image of a leaf

for this post to share with you

I find myself singing these words

with great zest and sincerity

and yes I sound pretty good (or maybe not)

but since I cannot read or write

 a musical note of any kind

the rhythms of this song will be lost to time

but this image of the leaf

in its fine autumn dress

will hopefully brighten your day for quite a while.

 

* The title refers to a guest post I have asked my younger brother, who does have an ear for music, to write about music and nature based on his life experiences down in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains.  It is a treat I hope to share before the end of the year. Stay tuned. Get it? Tuned … Have a good day, folks.  😉

 

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Words taken from  Wordless: Writer’s Block and Grief, a beautiful essay out today by writer Lorraine Berry in Talking Writing Magazine.  As the title suggests, it is about a writer dealing with grief.  It is a moving piece that I hope you have a chance to read. It was startling to read of black birds in the first paragraph of her essay.  Birds of that dark shade have been on my mind of late though none did I see on a recent walk through the Fells. A friend faraway, who is dealing with grief, had mentioned as part of a larger conversation of seeing blackbirds outside of his house.  And though I was not close enough to hug him as he might have liked, we did spend a while talking about the wings of the bird and how they glistened iridescent in the sun.  Mostly on my walk through the Fells, I saw leaves. 😉

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A recent festival in Union Square closed off Somerville Avenue.  For the most part, I kept my hands in my pockets as I walked along enjoying the sights.  But after a while, those leaves!

Good thing there were no cars as I meandered along with my head in the clouds and eyes on the ground.

I even took some leaves home.

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I did not think the petunias would grow indoors.  I thought they’d bloom for a short while and then fade away, but somehow they have lasted the summer and now bloom confidently into the fall.

They have outlasted the basil, thyme and mints.

They soak up the sun near the hardier herbs – the oregano, sage and rosemary.  The plant’s white flowers shade the poinsettia that is still bright green and the stellar red garden mum, a hostess gift still hanging on.

I think I have tried to grow petunias indoors before with little luck.  They are a complex flower for me, not my favorite and yet I can’t help but think of them as my mother’s plant.

She grew them in wooden boxes and converted tires that my father made and arranged in the yard for her.  We shall see if this plant thrives into the winter months.  Not to rush time, but I can’t wait to see the white blooms against the window with snow falling down.

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That is the oak tree in the background, its canopy thinning so that the morning light shines through the bedroom window in the most interesting of ways.  Why photograph a spot of light on a window frame? I don’t know but I was drawn to do it, and thankful that I could.

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After smelling an open jar of wild mint (that’s all it was, I swear) I once had a waking dream of setting up camp in the desert, my feet sinking into the hot sands, the air filled with the sounds of horses snorting and the jingle of their bells. I was perhaps influenced by a conversation with a man from Morocco. Even before that dream I had been planning to visit the Sahara, as well as deserts within the U.S.

Some of my favorite movies have depicted vast dunes of sand in shades of sparkling white to dusky cream and even dark gold. Lawrence of Arabia. The English Patient. Dune. There’s that opening scene in the 1979 movie, The Black Stallion.  And, of course, Star Wars. 😉  I love the depiction of man or beast making their way across the shifting landscape.  I have been lucky to visit many different landscapes and to photograph them.

But no deserts yet.  Not really.  This morning, as I lay in bed, photographing the hills and valleys of the cotton sheets, I wondered anew if I ever will see such sandy sights firsthand.

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How many legs does the frog have? That’s the question I wrote on the back of the Melissa’s Frog postcard that I mailed to my 3-year old nephew.  I’ve felt firsthand the quality of the posters, whether simple poster prints or archival heavyweight paper.  The mugs I’ve left out for display and watched as people remarked at the beautiful glazing.  My passion, of course, are the notecards and stamps.  They’ve sparked quite the conversation at my local post office.  Please see if there is anything of interest for you, your family, friends and colleagues.  Meanwhile, have a good weekend, folks.

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… but then the sun came out.

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I was walking along the Charles River, years ago, when I saw this hawk taking flight.  I just happened to bring my camera up in time.  I don’t know what I expected to capture but memory is fickle and so I must have wanted something to help me remember the beauty of that moment, of the hawk’s motion.

There was no music by the river that day as there is in this short video of ballet dancer David Hallberg.  And it is the combination of his motion with the music of Olafur Arnald that made me pause, mesmerized … and inspired to move.  I will never move like Mr. Hallberg but it was interesting to be reminded of the physical self when it is too easy to get stuck to a chair behind a keyboard.

Director Eric K. Yue states that the video is “… less about the dance or context of a story, but rather a state of mind …” into a dancer’s preparations. I don’t see much ballet on stage but after watching this video I am tempted to seek some out.  Enjoy the video when you can. 😉

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