Cold in the world, inside and out.
Archive for the ‘Nature’ Category
Winter
Posted in Nature, Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday on February 3, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Footprints
Posted in Nature, Psycho-Bubbles, Reflections on the everyday, tagged footprints, Snow, Walkabout on January 17, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Returning from Walkabout in untrammeled snow. Turning, I saw my footprints. Medium size, not uncommon.
Sand, snow or earth, footprints do not last long. A mark, a measure of where we have been, a pace held and gone.
Some like to leave their mark, or wish they made a bigger mark. Footprints wear away. It is the thing that cannot be seen, memories of the walk, that persist.
Footprints do not last, I do not mind.
Blizzard
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday, tagged blizzards, Snow on December 10, 2013| Leave a Comment »
A distance drive on a stormy day. Horizontal snow blows across the road from the right, changing direction midstream. Roadway breathes with snaking, vaporous snow, flowing before my car like a tide. Mesmerizing.
Wind hits from the left, the entire works blows into opaque cloud as an oncoming semi passes within feet. Zero visibility.
Flat light, socked in storm, taillights obscured by snow. Drift after drift, snow headed to earth. No where to go but forward–or off the road.
On a sunny day, driving this road is thoughtless. Wild but still beautiful, this side of Nature commands full attention.
Home again, garage door closing slowly shuts out the storm. Glad to be inside looking out.
Christmas trees
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday, tagged Apples, autumn, Christmas trees on November 21, 2013| Leave a Comment »
From a distance they are startling. Brilliant ornaments bob on the breeze from twisted charcoal colored branches. Two trees, one dressed in red, the other in gold. Smooth round color against leafless gnarled stems creates a visually festive feast.
On closer look, the ground is strewn with ornaments. Apple trees.
Shooting Stars
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday, tagged Clouds, consciousness, contrails on November 13, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Peerless blue day driving east, sky brightening, sun not yet risen. Clear cantaloupe colored horizon, scattered shooting stars of short airplane contrails falling like fireworks.
Later in the morning, setting out trash at the curb. Skyward two contrails form an intersection the height of the sky, dwarf the earth, impossible to miss. Marks the spot, so near, so far…we are all here, just now, in time.
Soul and Shadow
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday, tagged Halloween, Samhain, wind on October 31, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Do you see it? The trees are stirring, shrugging in strong breeze, coloured leaves drift down, only to whip upwards, their journey uncharted. This realm is browning, rich russets, gold and purple hues spread thickly where the greenwood grows.
Do you hear it? The wind has gathered confidence, pulling at homes, across waves, pushing on those who resist. The gaps in windows and doors give wind voice, easy to believe it is speaking to you.
Darkness and decay, wind that tears, these things frighten humans, with good reason. They speak of impermanence, of what seems solid but is not. Restless landscape, few times speak to the transitory nature of life better than emergence in spring and descent in autumn.
The Celtic autumn is at an end. Come October 31, the festival of Samhain (“Sow-in”) celebrates the beginning of the Celtic winter. With November 1 comes the new Celtic year. Apropos that winter births the New Year, as all things Celtic begin in the dark.
There is code in the wind, uniquely translated by each soul, shaped by age, experience, wisdom. Howsoever you cast your eye on that which cannot be articulated creates the image that draws toward you. You are the world you see—a promise, a gift and a curse—or more simply, what you see is what you get.
There is no hell as great as that which humans create for themselves right here on earth. Hell was never the ground of Samhain.
Do you understand it? Warmth in the darkness, wildness on the wind, things are as they should be. What is chaos but creation? As things end, others begin, impermanence a force to be counted upon, not feared. Samhain greetings to you and yours.
Ode to Longshot
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday, The Garden, tagged autumn, monarch butterflies, monarch habitat loss on October 10, 2013| Leave a Comment »
It has been just about a year since Longshot, a late season Monarch butterfly I once knew.
Brought inside from freezing November cold, Longshot emerged from its chrysalis too late, with stiff wings. Passing on amidst fine fresh cut flowers and greenery, Longshot had a view of a sky he or she never touched.
Buried under the milkweed in my garden, I have visited Longshot as the winter and my legal ordeal wore on. Spring and summer came, with some luck the worst part of a high conflict custody matter is behind me.
Come autumn, the garden is again a riot of bursting seed pods, crimson grass, yellow leaves, azure and purple sage. Color to rival summer in every way, hummingbirds only now trailing away.
The spell of autumn is different, tales of things that come to pass, like Longshot, or custody trials and the ill they weave, decaying in their time.
Though globally, monarch populations continue to decline, more visited my garden this season than any year prior.
Here is to you Longshot, for the will to live in the toughest of times and the heart to come again in the spring, eternity is yours.
The Eyes of the beholder
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday, tagged autumn colour, beauty, maple seeds on October 7, 2013| Leave a Comment »
On walkabout, I came around the corner and spied the statuesque trees that line the north side of my property.
The youngest of the three is almost the height of its neighbors, and like my son who planted it from a maple helicopter, lacks only in girth. The other two, red and yellow maples respectively, resided here before we.
Deep inside each tree I notice autumnal colours near the trunk, yet hidden except for those looking.
They say beauty is only skin deep, and in some instances, perhaps it is true. But like the brilliance of those just turning leaves, for those that can see? I think beauty more often starts on the inside.
Just hangin’ around
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday, tagged autumn, autumn colour on September 29, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Perfect autumn day.
On walkabout the landscape is brilliant. Crystal clear air, forever blue sky, green lush lawns, each tree its own perfect expression. Every leaf in place. Pregnant. Tis’ the season but the fiery palatte of autumn has not arrived. A secret moment whose arrival is still known only to the trees.
I thought I heard them whispering, but it could have been the breeze.
An Odd Thing
Posted in Nature, Reflections on the everyday, tagged consciousness, desert, time on September 21, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Looking at a wall calendar, it was September before I knew it. The picture is Zions National Park in Utah, a place I have set foot.
I know the texture of the scrub grass, the look, feel and warmth of sandstone and the terrain it creates. Dry places interspersed by cold stream or river. Changing treeline, now deciduous, then coniferous, I have touched those anonymous twisting trunks. Blue plateau in the distance. Shape, color and setting unique on the planet. Even the air, the whiff of sage in the breeze. Sparse. Big sky, I can breathe.
We visit places, but if touched deeply, do we ever leave? Transit through memory of image. Is it illusion that I sit in a chair, in my home office, washing machine gently chugging, crickets sounding through open windows? With age I understand no tickets are needed to ride.
I wish I were there. Maybe I am.
Shouldn't...but Do 