by Edvard Munch
The Clock strikes One
That just struck Two —
Some Schism in the Sum —
A Sorcerer from Genesis
Has wrecked the Pendulum —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1598)
dissonance in time
by Edvard Munch
Category: Emily Dickinson
by Edvard Munch
yesterday and today flutter away
It was a butterfly day! We got to see migrating monarchs for the first time since we moved down here to North Carolina! And some of their fellow pollinators. Interesting to note that North Carolina is home to 75 butterfly, more than 500 bee, and over 4,000 moth species.
Yesterday is History,
’Tis so far away —
Yesterday is Poetry — ’tis Philosophy —
Yesterday is mystery —
Where it is Today
While we shrewdly speculate
Flutter both away
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1290)
thunderstorm
by Albert Bierstadt
A — Cap of Lead across the sky
Was tight and surly drawn
We could not find the mighty Face
The Figure was Withdrawn —
A Chill came up as from a shaft
Our noon became a well
A Thunder storm combines the charms
Of Winter and of Hell
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1735)
three quick pics
Coastal Plain Habitat boardwalk in June
It was too hot for a walk but I had to get my summer picture for Karma’s “same location for all 4 seasons” photo hunt. And my coastal plain habitat boardwalk picture for June. I darted into the botanical garden, got them, and then took two quick pics on my way back out.
These Fevered Days — to take them to the Forest
Where Waters cool around the mosses crawl —
And shade is all that devastates the stillness
Seems it sometimes this would be all —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1467)
firefly
A winged spark doth soar about —
I never met it near
For Lightning it is oft mistook
When nights are hot and sere —
It’s twinkling Travels it pursues
Above the Haunts of men —
A speck of Rapture — first perceived
By feeling it is gone —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1502)
of the snail
The velocity of the ill, however, is like that of the snail.
~ Emily Dickinson
(Letter to Charles H. Clark, April 1886)
dimpled trout lilies and other small spring things
dimpled trout lily
On this Sunday morning my friend Susan and I set out to find dimple trout lilies at the botanical garden, only to find the gates would be closed until 1:00. No matter, we decided to saunter along the nearby nature trails for a couple of hours. And there turned out to be plenty of the tiny lilies in the woods. They are so tiny they barely poke through the leaves on the forest floor. They are native here in the Piedmont.
This post has way too many pictures but I couldn’t bring myself to cut out any more than I already did. The woods still looked like it was winter, unless one looked down and more closely at the leaf litter for tiny spring ephemerals.
The Dandelion’s pallid Tube
Astonishes the Grass —
And Winter instantly becomes
An infinite Alas —
The Tube uplifts a signal Bud
And then a shouting Flower —
The Proclamation of the Suns
That sepulture is o’er —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1565)
When the botanical garden gates opened we went in and found more dimpled trout lilies and what looked like more kinds of trilliums coming up.
more dimpled trout lilies
What a wonderful time we had enjoying springtime’s opening act in this part of the world! I’m sure there will be many more flowers coming soon.
long winter shadows
Our first winter holidays in North Carolina were amazing! Our walks were few and far between, though, due to all the other activities. Time to get back on track and back to the blogosphere.
Look back on Time, with kindly Eyes —
He doubtless did his best —
How softly sinks the trembling Sun
In Human Nature’s West —
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1251)
I think if I’m going to photograph more birds we will have to visit more gardens than forests. The trees seem to be so much taller down here and my zoom lens just doesn’t reach those high perches to capture the winged creatures that well. But I’m including this bluebird picture anyway to remind me how nice it was to see and hear a few of them, way overhead, that day. 🙂
fading autumn
On a chilly Sunday morning my friend Susan came over so we could take a very local wander in the woodlands. Susan has been living in this area many years so she led the way. Down the hill from us, on the edge of the neighborhood, is Bolin Creek, which runs through Bolin Forest. It might become a go-to place for Tim and me when we don’t want to have to drive somewhere for a nice walk.
little holes in the bark might be resin pockets
A very unique bark characteristic separating shortleaf pine from loblolly, longleaf, and other southern pine species. These are resin pockets, also described by various references as “spherical pitch pockets,” “small spots of resin,” and “volcanoes.”
~ N.C. Cooperative Extension website
Your thoughts don’t have words every day
They come a single time
Like signal esoteric sips
Of the communion Wine
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1476)