Sweet Encounters

Grace grows best in winter.

Samuel Rutherford

Every morning, I hang out the feeders.

This winter is especially snowy and cold,

So I don’t chase anyone away.

I thought I was doing it for the animals-

But when the buck came, watching the squirrel

struggle to get food from the squirrel resistant feeder,

and began dropping seeds on the ground… sharing…

I realized they’re giving me a greater gift.

I am witnessing the grace of a wild life.

The doe also came, with her fawn -

Standing at the feeder together

Eating together.

They will survive without my help.

They will find other feeders, other food

When I fly south,

But the doe and her fawn,

The buck and the squirrel

Have shown me their love.

They’ve been my close companions

In the silent calm of morning

In the loneliness of winter

Where the white blanket has fallen

And stayed. And I am warm with

Affection for this snow,

And the grace it brings

Wandering out from the woods.

I will miss it when I leave,

but I am grateful for it now.

Seek teachings everywhere,

Like a deer that finds

A quiet place to graze,

Seek Seclusion to digest

All you have gathered. . .

Namkhai Norbu

Oh it is going to be hard to leave this snowy wonderland, but, alas, the next time I write I will be in Miami - looking for iguanas and night herons.

Thank you so much for being here. See you in a week or two.

The heavy winter skies have only allowed the moon to shine through a few times this month, but here she is, rising through the trees - not quite full. The wolf moon.

Monochrome Vision

The rare moment is not the moment when there is something worth looking at, but the moment when we are capable of seeing.

Joseph Wood Krutch

monochrome

color eludes my eyes

the dormant grass, the bare trees,

the tangle of fallen branches and leaves.

it is all - all one giant mess,

confusing my sight-

and yet there you stand,

nearly hidden

in brown and white;

just like another branch=

before me.

standing tall and (nearly) straight, the bare trees

a rain drop lingers on the surface of a puddle…reflecting

The messy reflection of barren things in the fen waters (Johnsons Shut-Ins State Park, MO)

a nest that fell on the stone path (Johnsons Shut-Ins State Park, MO)

a mass of volcanic rock, slowly etched and worn by a river finding its way through (Johnsons Shut-Ins State Park, MO)

There is a sense of patient waiting in the gray skies, bare trees, and dormant fields.

The days are short,

The sun a spark

Hung thin between

The dark and dark.

John Updike

I have been thinking about beauty in late fall - mainly whether or not there is any. In the U.S., in the Midwest, it can be very gray, cold and wet this time of year. Everything seems to be the same dull brown or gray. I struggle to find something colorful to photograph - a rare blue sky, a bright berry, a bird, a sunset…but then I thought, why struggle? Why not try to see beauty in this season as it is? It is a darker kind of beauty, a melancholy beauty; but still worth the effort of seeing.

Thank you so much for being here. I will see you next week!

Late Autumn Musing

I saw old autumn in the misty morn stand shadowless like silence, listening to silence.

Thomas Hood

In November,

I am

November.

I am dark and still,

I am cloudy and cold,

I am stormy.

One day I shine;

laugh out loud,

and scatter the leaves.

The next day I freeze -

whipping up an icy wind

blowing snow over everything.

Then, once again

I stop -

Melting into

December.

One white leaf in a sea of brown

Hey. Who’s over there?

A tufted titmouse with a little bite

November at its best - with a sort of delightful menace in the air.

Anne Bosworth Greene

A little taste of winter blew in Monday night.

Snow gathered in the fallen leaves.

A dark-eyed Junco got a face full of snow while searching under the feeder for fallen seeds.

A Carolina Wren showed up on the suet feeder. Seems a bit late to be in Michigan.

A young deer with its beautiful winter coat stayed around the edge of my yard all afternoon.

Listening…

By sunset Wednesday evening, most of the snow was already gone. In this photo, the deer are standing in the light of the setting sun looking oddly orange, except for the parts in the shade.

November’s a burn and an ache.

Charles Wright

November is a strange month. It’s moody. It can be warm and calm. It can be cold, dark and windy. It can be wintry. It can be all of these things in the same day. It takes me along with it if I’m not careful. I try to be careful. I don’t always succeed.

Luckily - by the time you read this - it will be December. Hope your November was full of good weather both internally and externally.

Thank you so much for being here. I will see you next week!

A late November sunset clear, bright and cold.