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Posts Tagged ‘nature’

I don’t remember seeing any ducks where I grew up in Virginia so maybe that’s why they caught my attention so much in Boston.  Plus they are one of the few birds that don’t seem to mind me stalking them from shore.  Sometimes they even come right up to me.  Like this little lass on the Liffey River in Dublin.

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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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It has been a hard month, a hard summer, a hard year, for so many family and friends.  I read their words and hear their voices, and all I have been able to do, in the end, is absorb and listen.   On occasion I have been able to touch, to hug, and to encourage others to take such action.  Sometimes I have offered words of advice but I am beginning to think that, for the most part, those words of advice could be a song or poem or a passage from a book.  The words from my mouth are not so important as is my literal or figurative presence.  I am lucky to have them in my lives as well.

Despite the title of this post, I do not feel at the center of it all, whatever “it” may be.  As a writer, photographer, storyteller, I feel on the periphery, observing the chaos of life from odd angles that reveal ambiguities, sadness, horror, pain but almost always, great beauty, too.  When I talk with the friends and family who are struggling I find myself wishing … and then I stop myself.  I cannot live other peoples’ lives, but I can and often do ask them, “Without ignoring all that’s going wrong, what is going right? What’s one thing making you happy?”  One lovely friend will have a tendency to say, “Well, at least my cat is not dead … yet.”  And I’ll say, “Exactly!” 😉

These are the rambling thoughts that come to mind this Sunday morning as I hold close in my heart those who may be feeling a bit alone or vulnerable or just unsure of next steps.  I certainly feel that way about some things too.  And with that said, what is one thing making me happy at this moment?  It is the morning sun falling upon this apple creating a little apple universe.  At least I see the stars.

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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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