swan lake

falling slowly

“Fall colors are funny. They’re so bright and intense and beautiful. It’s like nature is trying to fill you up with color, to saturate you so you can stockpile it before winter turns everything muted and dreary.”

~ Siobhan Vivian

I’m a bit like a mad woman, scrambling to capture every bit of autumn color I can find. Heavy rains are expected later in the week and I expect much of the leaves will be washed to the ground. A beautiful season but far too fleeting…now why can’t winter come and go as fast?

autumn, literature, nature, on the pond, reflections, sky, Trees, walks, wildlife

stockpiling

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good morning..

“Tea is an act complete in its simplicity.
When I drink tea, there is only me and the tea.
The rest of the world dissolves.
There are no worries about the future.
No dwelling on past mistakes.
Tea is simple: loose-leaf tea, hot pure water, a cup.
I inhale the scent, tiny delicate pieces of the tea floating above the cup.
I drink the tea, the essence of the leaves becoming a part of me.
I am informed by the tea, changed.
This is the act of life, in one pure moment, and in this act the truth of the world suddenly becomes revealed: all the complexity, pain, drama of life is a pretense, invented in our minds for no good purpose.
There is only the tea, and me, converging.”

- Thich Nhat Hanh

*a thank you to my friend, Shawna Lemay, for introducing me to such wonderful poetry.

autumn, home, poetry, still life, the everyday, traditions

tea and me

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on a blue book

You’ve been living for this for weeks
without knowing it:
the moment the house empties like a city in August
so completely
it forgets you exist.
Light withdraws slowly
is almost gone before you notice.
In the stillness, everything becomes itself:
the circle of white plates on the kitchen table
the serious chairs that attend them
even the roses on the papered walls
seem to open a little wider.
It looks simple: the glass vase holding
whatever is offered—
cut flowers, or the thought of them—
simple, though not easy
this waiting without hunger in the near dark
for what you may be about to receive.

~ Esther Morgan

In celebration of National Poetry Month

autumn, flora, home, poetry, still life

simple

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