Living in the Moment

I went to the arboretum the other day, took pictures, and wrote this poem.



As a child, I would hide away
Within the venerable civilization of trees
There was an invisible line at the edge of our property
Once crossed, all yelling and fighting would cease

I would step into
The flute-like call of a soulful owl
The rise of loquacious locusts
Like steam after a summer rain
And then their sinking hush as I drew near
The creek spilling through pine roots
Weaving around fallen trees
Creating swirling stages of leaves dancing
Ceremoniously, at the end of their day
Like the wind-up music box ballerina
That played Lara’s Theme
The pine needles, bark, and cones that scented my bare feet
Wafting woodland perfume
Infusing a musty certitude

I used to wonder
About never going home
About living on dew berries and Honey Locust nuts
Like the people who lived here before
About pine bark boats
With a leaf for a sail
Where would it end up?
Drifting

Making birds, nests, and eggs
From the creek bed’s clay
I lived in the moment
Though, it eventually dried and crumbled
And I cried
Now, I keep returning to the forest
Searching for that world
Where I lived in the moment
But my head won’t be silent
Yelling and fighting, though I live alone

More Signs of Spring

This first one is for Photo Friday's "Fuzzy".







I wasn't the only one who was enjoying the beautiful weather. These are more shots from my trip to the arboretum.

Spring Time In Picasa

I've been experimenting in Picasa, thanks to Michael's instructions on this post. Below is the original.

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I had been feeling a little down this week, and tired. On Friday, all my clients cancelled, so I decided to go to the arboretum. The warm sun and all the new blooms completely changed my mood. The awakening forest was so full of energy. I wandered for about four or five hours, and left feeling energized. I also left with over 300 pictures, so you'll probably be seeing more of my walk in the woods.



Unfortunately, my little friends here were awakening as well. Actually, I don't think they ever went dormant this year. We didn't have a hard enough freeze, so I'll probably be seeing hoards of these things this summeer. They really love me :[.

A Ray of Light

Winter's almost over here. There are buds on the trees. Yea!



This is January in the Adirondacks.



My next post will be the first signs of spring ;].

Adirondack Winter Walk

Inspired by Leaf Lady's post "Snow in Califonia".



For Mary.

A fantacy winter wonderland... this how this whole place looked to me, because I don't get to see snow much.

A Marsh Picture by Mary Stebbins Tate

Jackstraw Winter

Mary Stebbins Taitt sent me this photo from a walk in the woods, and I thought it might be neat to have it look a little old timey. This was the result!.....Mike Serafin

Mercer Arboretum's Oxbow

When I look at this picture, I see the silently serene beauty of the Spring Creek area where I grew up. "Silently serene", though, were not the words that were floating around in my head as I was taking this picture. The woods I was walking through were not silent or serene at all, but alive and busy with chattering squirrels and birds, the occasional song of an owl, and the cry of a distant hawk echoing through the forest trees. I was not serene, but exhilarated by the first cool fall breeze of the year, and the smell of pine needles blanketing the forest floor.

I heard somewhere that researchers believe that a walk in the woods [or nature in general] releases a chemical in the body that has healing properties and can calm anxiety much in the same way sunlight causes the body to produce vitamin D. At that moment, though, I could not have cared less about such research, because I had my camera in hand, and couldn't wait to take pictures of anything I found interesting.

As I approached the Oxbow, the sounds of the forest start to change. A chorus of croaking frogs gradually got louder. Thousands of frogs. There was no mistaking the Oxbow's location, even though you can't see it until you reach the edge of where it slopes down into the bog.

The slope is steep, so to be sure of my footing, I removed my flip flops and descended barefoot. As a kid, I used to run through these woods barefoot all the time, so it seems natural to do this. When I reached the bank, I heard tiny splashes in the water directly in front of me, but never saw the frogs leap in. All the other frogs croaked louder as if to sound a warning. The mud is black, and I know from experience that it will stain my feet for days. The water is murky with a green algae bloom covering it's surface. I don't dare stick my feet in it for fear of what lurks beneath, like water moccasins or any other foul creature my imagination could dream up. Again, as I swatted away the mosquitoes, the serene beauty of this place did not occur to me.

Then I turned to my left and looked up. The afternoon sunlight was streaming in through the trees, casting shadows across the algae, and a green glow to the whole scene. The reflections of the trees in the water were crossing the shadows on the algae. Excitedly, I started clicking away with my camera until the sun dipped down below the tree line and the shadows were gone, the green glow had faded to natural earth tones, and what seemed like minutes had faded into hours.

Reluctantly, I started back to my car, stopping for any excuse to take a picture, but there was not enough light, and I didn't bring my tripod. The first thing I did when I got home was turn on my computer so I could see my photos. I sat at my desk tired in a very peaceful and relaxed way after my four hour walk through the Arboretum. While I was glancing through my photos and came across this one, it occurred to me that it took my camera to show me the real beauty and serenity of this place where I grew up and have always taken for granted.

Some More Reflections for Mary

Mary inspired me. The last two are upside down.

Went to the Park Today

Cypress boardwalk


Why the water looks so green


What lurks beneath


It was a good day

Hello from East Texas

This is my first post to Silk Creek Portal. I'm a long ways from Silk Creek, but hope to visit someday soon. In the meantime, I thought I'd show you what a walk in the woods looks like where I live. The way the sunlight caught the Spanish Moss in this Cypress Tree caught my eye.



Another view of the same tree.

Signs of fall

IMG_8357-1, originally uploaded by mstebbi.

The leaves, herbs and sedges are all starting to show signs of impending autumn, and if there's fall color, can winter be far behind?