December’s Bare Beauty

So quiet and subtle is the beauty of December that escapes the notice of many people their whole lives through. Colour gives way to form: every branch distinct, in a delicate tracery against the sky. New vistas, obscured all Summer by leafage, now open up.

Flora Thompson

Missouri Mist

It is morning in Missouri.

Overnight a fog crept into the field

where I slept,

soaking the earth,

dripping from the barbed wire,

clinging like diamonds

to a tuft of grass caught there,

coating the trees - delineating

every darkened limb

against the blue grey sky.

I walk into the mist

along a lonely farm road

and these bare beauties

emerge one by one-

disappearing

as I pass

quietly,

cloaked in solitude.

December 7, 2022 - lonely drop from barbed wire

November 29, 2022 - Fennville, Michigan. It has been gray and cold today. I decided to look for small beauties - like these berries and the dried buds and wildflowers that follow.

November 29, 2022 - Dried before blooming

December 3, 2022 - Sun setting through a fallen pine limb

December 3, 2022 - Fennville, MI - The golden sun was out again today, after a few days of clouds. When it set, I saw a pretty little fallen limb of pine on the beach and thought I would like to see how it would light up the needles if I could get a picture through them. It was windy, and I had to kneel in the sand, but I really liked the result.

December 8, 2022 - Robber’s Cave State Park - Oklahoma. This is the first night I’ve been able to see the moon at night on this trip. Haloed and hallowed. I love the way the bare limbs seem to be reaching out for it.

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Mind the Rain

Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.

Langston Hughes

10/26/22 - Rain clinging to a limb, reflecting the trees.

The tree in autumn

I feel

cold water

sliding

over my bare skin,

clinging briefly

to my outstretched limbs,

then falling -

soaking the earth

beneath me.

Nourishing

my roots.

I drink

deeply,

drunkenly,

falling asleep.

10/26/22 - Bare trees held by a raindrop.

All winter long

I rest,

naked and cold -

dreaming

of beautiful green garments

i will wear

in spring.

The evergreen clings to the raindrops in its needles.

Rain is grace; rain is the sky descending to the earth; without rain, there would be no life.

John Updike

If there is magic on this planet, it is contained in water.

Loren Eiseley

I stopped for the sky this morning. It was raining but the sun was shining in the east and the light was golden. Parked my car on the shoulder. to look and get a picture. The wet pavement reflected the whole sky - doubling the magic.

When I turned back to get in my truck - to the west - this is what I saw:

Breathing

August 13, 2022 A fawn waiting for its brother

Saturday morning

I went down the bluff stairs

To the lake.

It was still dark;

And I was foggy with sleep.

To the north I saw movement-

a silhouette on the beach,

then another-

then two more;

running and pausing

dipping their heads in the water

splashing and shaking it off -

a family of deer

briefly sharing a moment

with me.

August 17, 2022 A tree reaches out to the moon

8/17/2022

Busy days behind and ahead. Social days. Good days. But I need some peace in all of this. Moments to breathe. The lake in the early morning is my refuge, with the waning moon in the blue sky. This morning I decided to focus my photography on extremely simple, minimalist subjects to create in pictures what I crave in my life. Simplicity and space, beauty and quiet. So here is the moon, the sky and a leafy branch reaching out toward them both.

August 18, 2022 Cedar moss carpets the forest floor

August 18, 2022 Breathing is on my mind this week. I’m listening to Breath by James Nestor, about how we’ve lost the art of breathing well, and how it affects our health. This focusing of my attention has made me feel oddly tense; so today I walked the woods path slowly; and then down to the lake to breathe in the lake air (through the NOSE, of course - if you read the book; you will understand).

August 19, 2022 Dune grass pushing through rocks

August 19, 2022. I saw this little bit of dune grass growing out from under a black stone, perfectly framed by it. Nature’s compositions and nature’s resilience in one image. The grass is growing through a pile of rocks my association brought in to help control the erosion of the bluff. It all looked unnatural for awhile, until suddenly - it didn’t .

August 19, 2022 Saugatuck

Just a week ago there were so many sunflowers blooming here; now there are only a few. Summer is waning. And this lonely remaining blossom, not fully open, bows its head.

August 21, 2022 Corn field under overcast sky

August 21, 2022 On my Sunday long run i ran on farm roads. Quiet and solitary. Simple. Feeling every step, counting my breaths ( yes, i do) .

August 21, 2022 A roll of hay in a green field

August 21, 2022 Grasshopper on the glass door

August 21, 2022 I came home from my run and found a pretty green grasshopper on my front door; then realized his leg was broken; which was why he didn’t jump away while I was getting in close with my camera. I felt protective ; but couldn’t figure out how to help. By Monday, he was gone. I don’t know what happened. Life is so precious and uncertain.

August 21, 2022 Close up of grasshopper and reflection

August 21, 2022 Grasshopper from the side

August 22, 2022 A lost feather in the setting sun

August 22, 2022 A lost feather I stood up in the sand., vanes almost tickling the light of the setting sun.

Rhoda Lewis

Photo Journal