sun – Page 14 – In the Woods

glacial

2.16.15.3382 — 2.16.15 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

Conjecturing a Climate
Of unsuspended Suns –
Adds poignancy to Winter –
The shivery Fancy turns

To a fictitious Country
To palliate a Cold –
Not obviated of Degree –
Nor eased – of Latitude –

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #551)

2.16.15.3379 — 2.16.15 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

The Mayflower II (above) is at Mystic Seaport for restoration. This replica of the original Mayflower was constructed in England and launched in 1956. Her home port is Plimoth Plantation in Massachusetts.

2.16.15.3374 — some parts in the middle of the Mystic River were free of ice

2.16.15.3362 — Elm Grove Cemetery ~ 2.16.15 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

You mustn’t rush about
in endless rings
but learn to love
the nearest things.
~ Arne Paasche Aasen
(The Ways of Water)

2.16.15.3332 — 2.16.15 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

Not all the lanes were plowed in Elm Grove Cemetery so we couldn’t get to the graves of my White ancestors, but the cemetery was full of interesting snow drifts and shadows, and views of the snow and ice covered river.

2.16.15.3306 — ice blanketed in snow ~ 2.16.15 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

2.16.15.3303 — 2.16.15 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

You must rejoice in life every day; don’t wait until the moment has passed you by before acknowledging what a good time it really was! Don’t pin your hopes on the happiness of days to come. The older one gets, the more one realizes that the ability to savor the moment is a state of grace, a glorious gift…
~ Marie Curie
(Seasons)

2.16.15.3294 — 2.16.15 ~ Mystic, Connecticut

storm on the way

8.12.14 ~ Groton, Connecticut — swamp rose mallow ~ 8.12.14 ~ Beach Pond

misty sunlit noon
swamp mallows basking in pink
a storm on the way
~ Barbara Rodgers
(By the Sea)

8.12.14.1447 — 8.12.14 ~ Eastern Point Beach

I first met this battered old gull three years ago in August of 2011, when we were expecting Hurricane Irene. Today he sat on this post right next to us, closer than he’s ever come before, and we heard his long and mournful cry again. He looks a lot worse for wear, his life has no doubt been difficult with that badly mangled foot. Now it looks like he has a barnacle or a growth on his beak. I think he was letting us know about the approaching rain storm. No hurricane this time, though.

this little flower

MichaelHaferkamp.PurpleSaxifrage — “purple saxifrage, Svalbard” by Michael Haferkamp

As if some little Arctic flower
Opon the polar hem –
Went wandering down the Latitudes
Until it puzzled came
To continents of summer –
To firmaments of sun –
To strange, bright crowds of flowers –
And birds, of foreign tongue!
I say, As if this little flower –
To Eden, wandered in –
What then? Why nothing,
Only, your inference therefrom!
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #177)

The polar hem – I became completely enchanted with the metaphor Emily used for the Arctic Circle! What wildflowers might there be living north of latitude 66° 33′ 44″ N? The purple saxifrage in the photo above grows on Svalbard, a Norwegian archipelago in the Arctic Ocean, well above the polar circle, at latitudes 74° to 81° N.

So what would it mean if this little Arctic flower found itself in Paradise? I suppose it could only mean what we think it means – the possibilities are infinite!

born before the wind

"Red Boat with Blue Sails" by Odilon Redon (1840-1916) French Symbolist Painter & Printmaker — “Red Boat with Blue Sails” by Odilon Redon

We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won
As we sailed into the mystic

Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly
Into the mystic

~ Van Morrison
♫ (Into the Mystic) ♫

fresh-laundered

It’s morning again, little hope,
and the world’s drying off with fresh-laundered sunshine.
Life’s face is never the same though we may look at it for all eternity.
~ Kolbein Falkeid
(Morning)

wild comfort

5.10.13.5250 — apple blossoms ~ 5.10.13 ~ Storrs, Connecticut

The bottom may drop out of my life, what I trusted may fall away completely, leaving me astonished and shaken. But still, sticky leaves emerge from bud scales that curl off the tree as the sun crosses the sky. Darkness pools and drains away, and the curve of the new moon points to the place the sun will rise again. There is wild comfort in the cycles and the intersecting circles, the rotations and revolutions, the growing and ebbing of this beautiful and strangely trustworthy world.
~ Kathleen Dean Moore
(Wild Comfort: The Solace of Nature)

…first day of spring…

Sulamith Wülfing (1901–1989) German Artist & Illustrator — illustration by Sulamith Wülfing

To see the fire that warms you or, better yet, to cut the wood that feeds the fire that warms you; to see the spring where the water bubbles up that slakes your thirst and to dip your pail into it; to see the beams that are the stay of your four walls and the timbers that uphold the roof that shelters you; to be in direct and personal contact with the sources of your material life; to find the universal elements enough; to find the air and the water exhilarating; to be refreshed by a morning walk or an evening saunter; to find a quest of wild berries more satisfying than a gift of tropical fruit; to be thrilled by the stars at night; to be elated over a bird’s nest or a wild flower in spring – these are some of the rewards of the simple life.
~ John Burroughs
(John Burroughs’ America: Selections from the Writings of the Naturalist)

Welcome Spring!

an ancient harmony

nasa.fluxropessun — “Flux Ropes on the Sun” by NASA/Goddard Space Flight Center/SDO

I hear beyond the range of sound,
I see beyond the range of sight,
New earths and skies and seas around,
And in my day the sun doth pale his light.

A clear and ancient harmony
Pierces my soul through all its din,
As through its utmost melody, –
Farther behind than they – farther within.

~ Henry David Thoreau
(Inspiration)

supermoon ~ 6.23.13

6.23.13.6807 — supermoon ~ 6.23.13 ~ Avery Point

Satellite in my eyes
Like a diamond in the sky
How I wonder
Satellite strung from the moon
And the world your balloon
Peeping Tom for the mother station
~ Dave Matthews
♫ (Satellite) ♫

We speak of the beauty of the moon when we are speaking not only of its pure round whiteness in the night sky, but also of the mysterious influence it exerts. We also imply its strange magnetism, its mesmeric hold on our imagination, and the inexplicable way it affects our bodies, our sleep, our moods, and all nature. When we gaze up at night the moon unifies our world-view. It is a mirror, reflecting the light of the sun, but in its own unique consistency. The moon is more than what we see. Its appeal is cosmic and beyond the mind’s full conscious comprehension. It is as deep in us as it is far above us. To see it is to resonate with a thousand invisible forces and feelings.
~ Ben Okri
(A Time for New Dreams)