ragged-edged beech leaves

Stop and listen to the ragged-edged beech leaves, pale specters of the winter forest. They are chattering ghosts, clattering amid the bare branches of the other hardwoods. Wan light pours through their evanescence and burnishes them to gleaming. Deep in the gray, sleeping forest, whole beech trees flare up into whispering creatures made of trembling gold.
~ Margaret Renkl
(The Comfort of Crows: A Backyard Year)

12.20.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

A week ago I made a quick trip to the botanical garden to take a final picture for my four seasons photo hunt, and added it the post, which had become an eight season collection. It was a chilly, gray day but I was tempted to linger and see what other kinds of pictures could be taken in the very dim light of midwinter. One beech tree was full of marcescent leaves. A single leaf was dangling from another one.

white-throated sparrow

Finally, I got pictures of one of the white-throated sparrows foraging under the bird feeders, where there is a little less brush for them to hide under. There is stark beauty to be found in the winter garden, when seedheads are left naturally for the birds to eat.

a squirrel nest
oakleaf hydrangea
oakleaf hydrangea
Happy New Year!
a lingering aster
eastern gray squirrel
pansies

It still amazes me how pansies are winter flowers down south here! Imagine – pansies outside in December! Even though the temperature was in the low 50s that day, it felt cold and raw to me, in spite of my extra sweater, winter jacket, hat and gloves. I could have used my thermal underware but I didn’t think it would feel that cold out there.

One of the many things I do miss about being a young person is what was my tolerance for the cold. I used to love winter, being a January baby, and have many more fond childhood memories of playing outside in that season than in the others. (No bugs!) My sister and I spent countless hours ice skating in the frozen swamp in the woods behind our house. It was fun gliding across the (sometimes lumpy) icy hollows between the hummocks. A challenging obstacle course. And not a pansy in sight until April!

wonder will arrive

“Christmas Tree Harvesting” by Jahn Ekenæs

Before the ice is in the pools —
Before the skaters go,
Or any cheek at nightfall
Is tarnished by the snow —

Before the fields have finished —
Before the Christmas tree,
Wonder opon wonder —
Will arrive to me!

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #46)

to the blessed light that comes

“Woodland Stream in a Winter Landscape”
by John Henry Twachtman

I cannot tell you
how the light comes.
What I know
is that it is more ancient
than imagining.
That it travels
across an astounding expanse
to reach us.
That it loves
searching out
what is hidden
what is lost
what is forgotten
or in peril
or in pain.
That it has a fondness
for the body
for finding its way
toward flesh
for tracing the edges
of form
for shining forth
through the eye,
the hand,
the heart.
I cannot tell you
how the light comes,
but that it does.
That it will.
That it works its way
into the deepest dark
that enfolds you,
though it may seem
long ages in coming
or arrive in a shape
you did not foresee.
And so
may we this day
turn ourselves toward it.
May we lift our faces
to let it find us.
May we bend our bodies
to follow the arc it makes.
May we open
and open more
and open still
to the blessed light
that comes.

~ Jan Richardson
(How the Light Comes)

winter in the garden

Yesterday we went to a winter craft market at the botanical garden and of course I couldn’t resist getting a few pictures outside. It finally feels like winter here, with low temperatures some mornings in the 20s. But it was a warm afternoon and it felt good strolling around, even if a host of white-throated sparrows foraging in the brush wouldn’t come out for a picture!

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape — the loneliness of it — the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it — the whole story doesn’t show.
~ Andrew Wyeth
(LIFE, May 14, 1965, “Andrew Wyeth: An Interview”)

Winter under cultivation
Is as arable as Spring

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1720)

The Winter, most commonly, is so mild, that it looks like an Autumn, being now and then attended with clear and thin North-West Winds, that are sharp enough to regulate English Constitutions.
~ John Lawson
(A New Voyage to Carolina, 1709)

the warmth of the sun in winter
Carolina buckthorn
seasonal decor for the shrubs

Lots of folks are rushing around getting ready for the holidays, but I like to stay quiet this time of year, snuggling under my wool throw with a good book. I’ve started reading Clover Garden: A Carolinian’s Piedmont Memoir by Bland Simpson. The author lives not too far from us and I’m enjoying reading about the natural history of the local area.

as autumn becomes a memory

11.27.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden
northern mockingbird

November ends. I come across a poem by my favorite poet — she describes the sense of loss and disconnect I had been feeling all month.

She could not live upon the Past
The Present did not know her
And so she sought this sweet at last
And nature gently owned her
The mother that has not a Knell
For either Duke or Robin

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1535)

I’m grateful for and encouraged by nature, poetry and my books, and family and friends, as I imagine most of us are. This squirrel came up to me on our last visit to the botanical garden, as if to say, “I’m here, too.”

The poorest experience is rich enough for all the purposes of expressing thought. Why covet a knowledge of new facts? Day and night, house and garden, a few books, a few actions, serve us as well as would all trades and all spectacles. We are far from having exhausted the significance of the symbols we use. We can come to use them yet with a terrible simplicity. It does not need that a poem should be long. Every word was once a poem.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
(The Poet)

hemlock cones
looking up
mountain witch-alder
spotted cucumber beetle on a New England aster
sweet-gum

simple healing in
watching a mourning dove feed
on the forest floor

~ Barbara Rodgers
(In the Woods)

for what we have been given

“Autumn Berries & Flowers in Brown Pot” by John Constable

The Honorable Harvest asks us to give back, in reciprocity, for what we have been given. Reciprocity helps resolve the moral tension of taking a life by giving in return something of value that sustains the ones who sustain us. One of our responsibilities as human people is to find ways to enter into reciprocity with the more-than-human world. We can do it through gratitude, through ceremony, through land stewardship, science, art, and in everyday acts of practical reverence.
~ Robin Wall Kimmerer
(Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge & The Teachings of Plants)

beloved mourning doves

11.19.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

At last! I found some mourning doves in North Carolina! I think these two were probably a pair. I’ve really missed seeing these gentle birds, who frequently visited my balcony in Connecticut, and also used to hang out with me whenever I was weeding my garden. They had come into my life to comfort me after my mother died in 1991. Now I feel my mother’s spirit here. More of this story here.

As I was photographing the mourning doves I got the feeling someone was watching me. Turned out to be a squirrel on a nearby tree, eye level with me. I didn’t need to zoom in at all.

Also close by was a tufted titmouse who was diligently looking for something to eat inside that twig.

Down a different path we encountered a northern cardinal walking ahead of us, and then turning around to give us this backward glance.

Another northern cardinal was way high up in a pine tree, tackling a couple of nuts.

pine needles in the water, leaves hanging over the water

I think I’ve seen a red-bellied woodpecker down here, but this female is the first one I’ve photographed. Isn’t she pretty? It was definitely my lucky day in the botanical garden.

She was inside the wonderful garden and she could come through the door under the ivy any time and she felt as if she had found a world all her own.
~ Frances Hodgson Burnett
(The Secret Garden)

a praying mantis

Finn’s praying mantis
11.1.24 ~ North Carolina Botanical Garden

On Tim’s and Finn’s birthday the grandkids happened to have a day off from school, so we took them to the botanical garden so they could participate in a sculpture scavenger hunt designed for children. After we had located all but two of the selected sculptures we were stumped. Katherine and I went to the outdoor information booth to get an adult map to help us with a little detective work. But Finn and Tim went inside to ask for help inside the welcome center.

While inside there Finn spotted this praying mantis walking across the floor! Tim asked for a piece of paper and they offered the insect a ride outside to the garden on the sheet, which it accepted. After letting if off in the greenery Tim got this picture with his cell phone. Surely a token of good luck for grandfather and grandson on their shared birthday!