Patch of Joy

 

Green,

gold,

petite

blooms open

unexpectedly-

Leprechaun nature trickery

I had some luck of the Irish this St. Patrick’s Day. Upon arriving home, I glanced out the windows to my backyard and found my own pot of gold! The back quarter of my yard was filled with these lovely petite yellow blooms. 

This morning there had been nothing but brown and gray out these same windows. The sun and warmth worked their magic during my school day bringing forth this treasure. This goldenness filled the yard and myself with joy.  Spring is coming soon was their announcement. 

(I do believe this is the earliest I have seen them over the years.)

Flowers: Winter Aconite - even though they bloom in early spring. They are honey-scented upward-facing flowers that carpet the ground in shimmering gold. The flowers range in height from 3”-6”.  They are deer resistant which works well for my yard. 

Poem: Fibonacci Poem 

A six line poem that follows the Fibonacci sequence for syllables in each line (1,1, 2, 3, 5, 8)

Thank you to Leigh Anne Eck and Time to Write for sharing this form with me and allowing me to play around with it at our writing party. 

Wondering When the Last Will Be

Each moment in your presence now,

I collect in my being

wondering when the last will be.

Joyful love always existed 

but I am awestruck

each moment in your presence now.

All that you are and bring to this world

quiet beauty, brightness, persistence

I collect in  my being

Is this the last long embrace of all held dear

or can I anticipate a soon return-

wondering when the last will be.

It is almost mid-March and a big snowfall happened during the darkness of night. The world was once again quietly turned into a stunning winter masterpiece. Trees looked like they were dipped in sugar and stood upright in a fluffy blanket of white. It really is beautiful but immediately I started wondering if this is the last time this will happen as each day we inch towards spring. I know that there are many people where I live who are tired of snow and probably felt sick looking out the window this morning. I on the other hand wondered over the possibility of the last embrace of winter and wanting to treasure this beauty that only exists during winter months. 

Besides pondering the end of fluffy white snowflakes, I am also walking through feelings of seeing my oldest merge into full adulthood and getting ready to leave his childhood home. He graduates from college in a few months and is searching for jobs in various states and cities. I am so proud of all he has accomplished but am soaking up each and every moment with him because I do not know how soon he may be moving away and not for just a semester. 

These words flowed out early in the morning. I am not sure which refer to winter and which refer to my son. The words could truly relate to both of them and maybe the focus shifts between them in various lines of the poem. But either way, I will be cherishing the moments in both situations and wondering if this is the last time for now. 

Poetry Form: Cascade

 For the cascade poem, a poet takes each line from the first stanza of a poem and makes those the final lines of each stanza afterward. 

Hope on the Breeze

Warmth 

caresses my face with freshness 

that fills my soul.

A fragrance from heaven

enlivens my breath

with hope and vitality.

A glimpse of a new season

rejuvenates my spirit

promising that light and life overcome. 

Throw open the windows!! It is 70 degrees today! The past few months have been filled with winter "brrr" and it returns tomorrow. So seize the moment- open the windows and let freshness fill the house.

This is typical March weather here in upstate New York. One moment it is winter and the next it is spring. It is such a treat each year when you are able to open the windows again.  We all know that it is too soon for spring to stay but it gives such hope that those daily warm temperatures are coming ever closer.  It will be approximately another two months before the rebirth of nature fills our yards with vibrant flowers, leaves on trees, and bright green grass.  But today, well today, it confirms that the grayness, harshness and darkness of winter is fading with each new day into the light, hope and joy of spring.  

Photo: 

A Poetic Round of Seasons

The summons-

winter wildflowers

waterfalls frozen in a moment.                                 

                

The birds SANG!-

two season intertwine

guardians of Spring's door.

Skyscrapers in the woods-

dance of joy

Spring serenade.

Small masterpieces-

golden warrior

the knowledge of trees.

Love in the lilacs-

Comforting coo

Beauty, gratitude, peace.

                                                                                                           Ombre blue-

innocence

stillness' illusion.

Summer lights-

embrace or wither

a square of sunshine

jewels of a storm.

Flowers= memories and smiles-

some love for shade

am I that acorn?

Caught in a glance-

beams of heaven

summer slips to September.                                                                                                               

Reiterate wishes-

behold the beauty

nature= truly me.

The beauty in an ending-

fading mask

maturing to let go.

Bathing in a forest-

beautiful or horrific?

shining delight- December sunlight.

                                                                                                    

A whispered wish-

triggered transformation

accumulating quiet.

                                                                                                        Beautiful winter blues-

a cry unfrozen

a poetic round of seasons.

I honestly can't believe that I have been posting to this blog for a year. The first post was February 15, 2021. I have walked and written through all four seasons. I hoped to have captured the beauty that nature possesses during the changing seasons in my words and photos. 

The above poem is a Found poem.  I just took the titles of my blog posts in order and the above poem is the result. I was surprised at how well the titles could flow from one to the other- well,except- Am I that acorn?

I want say thank you to...

• you, the reader. I hope you have enjoyed the posts and experiencing the awe the can be found in nature.
• Jen Knight Laffin for inviting me to Time to Write and Teach Write. You made me be able to say- I AM A WRITER! Your coaching was so valuable to me. It made me be able to put my words out into the world.
• Donnetta Norris and Teach Write for offering courses that helped me develop as a writer and specifically how to begin a blog. Donnetta - you were a wonderful teacher!
• Greg and Felicia for going on hikes with me in all types of weather. 

Thank you for reading through a year. I hope that you will continue to check in with this blog. I will keep walking, writing and sharing. 

A Cry Unfrozen

 

Another's light spurs warmth from within

Unfreezing and changing hardness

to quiet tears traversing

the formed frigid facade

of rippled shadows

along the path

to release...

freedom

.

.

.

drops

The sun was glinting off the icicles hanging in front of my window. The rays touched them bringing light as well as shadows. They were frozen beauty. As I watched, I noticed that small drops of water, maybe snow tears, were gliding down the edge of the icicle with all of its bumps, ripples and slopes. As the drops reached the tip, they clung for a moment almost afraid to let go and plunge into the unknown. Then there was the release and freedom for a few moments in freefall. 

As I watched, it struck me that we are like icicles in the sun. We may show a tough skin to the world but when another's kindness or compassion touches us, we soften a bit. Sharing their warmth, through even the smallest act or just the right words, warms us from within. This kindness can free tears that travel down our faces but also flow through the path of hardness created by hurt. Often these tears can be cathartic. After those tears dry, a new feeling of freedom or hope fills us. 

I know that I have definitely experienced this many times in my years. Thank you to those who have been the warmth to help ease my hardened heart. 

Poetry Form: Nonet - a 9 line poem that has 9 syllables in the first line, 8 syllable in the 2nd line and so on. The last line contains 1 syllable.

Beautiful Winter Blues

 

Cerulean pool

Deep depressions bloom in snow

Colors of the light

While out snowshoeing last weekend, I noticed one of my favorite winter phenomena- BLUE snow! In the holes made by ski poles, blue light glowed out across the endless white field before me. It looked like blue flowers blooming in winter. (This photo is truly what I saw last weekend! There are no filters applied. I don’t think the photo does it justice. It was much more beautiful and awesome.)

So I came home to investigate how this happens. It doesn’t happen all the time so I was curious. To paraphrase from an article on Webexhibits.org- Sunlight is white light. As sunlight penetrates deep snow, red and yellow light is absorbed  and filtered leaving the blue light. Deeper snow filters out more of the other wavelengths. That is why we see blue when we look into the depressions. 

The beautiful blues of winter!

Accumulating Quiet

Flake by flake

Hour by Hour 

Inch by inch

                        a dusting,

                        whitening,

                        a hushing.

Flake by flake

Hour by hour

Inch by inch

                        blanketing,

                        covering,

                        quieting.

Flake by flake

Hour by hour

Inch by inch

                    a hiding,

                    disguising,

                    a nestling.

Flake by flake

Hour by hour

Inch by inch

                    cocooning,

                    silencing,

                    all-stilling.

The snowstorm arrived! The world is covered in white.

It began last night. Peeking out the window before bed, there was a delicate dusting of snowflakes across the ground and rooftops. The snow was offering a lullaby to the world.

Looking out the window this morning, the dusting had grown to inches and then feet. Driveways, sidewalks and bushes were hidden by a smooth blanket of white. Cars were disguised by drifts and cascades of snow. The only sounds heard were those of snowplows, snowblowers and scrapping shovels.

The snow continued its accumulation during the day. This blanket of white brought a stillness to the regular hectic schedule of life. People cocooned in their cozy homes enjoying the joys of a snow day.