FOUND IN: Nature, The Farm on June 03, 2014
I peered onto the mass with contempt. She has left me. Cheated and betrayed, I scheme. You can't go. I raised you. I nursed you. I gave you sugar water to build your masses. This is how you reward me?
The rain comes, the wind blows. It forces me to take cover. I worry they might run. Nightfall seals my dilemma. Catching them is but a silent picture played as if no one comes to the theater.
Daylight revels her disloyalty.
Departures are never convenient.
FOUND IN: Garden Design, Nature on January 29, 2014
(A late winter callistemon flower is encased in frozen precipitation.)
It starts noisily with gusty winds and heavy rainfall. It ends in silence. This is the kind of quiet that might go unnoticed until a walk reveals missing elements. The chirping of birds, dogs barking and the hum of automobiles are gone. The marsh, usually bustling with colorful waterfowl and long winged herons, seems to eerily hold its breath. Bridges are empty at noon; no humming, no beeping, no screeching. I walk alone up the slippery incline, no angst at losing limbs. The urgency to dart from one side to the other, as I have had to do so many times, is gone. I am literally standing in the middle of a street where hundreds would race. Slowly breathing in the icy air has my mind frozen, not exactly knowing what the next step might be.
(A view over to Johns Island reveals a missing element.)
I did not come here expecting the calm. With chatter all around screaming bad weather closings, mad rushes for last minute sundries and the approaching doomsday gridlock, my mind thinks "frantic". And while today's focus from the camera was iced precipitation, in the end it was all about the frozen noise.
(Mahonia 'Summer Sun' dips in the weight of frozen rain.)
The potential for fluid motion is not possible as the temperatures continue to plummet. As if in a second, time stills, so water can gracefully extend, but then stop. These are the opportunities that come with an occurrence seldom felt. Can you hear it?
FOUND IN: Nature, The Farm on January 14, 2014
A few too many years ago, a dip like the one we had last week would have been gut wrenching. Tears might have flowed. Sleep may have been interrupted. None of this was had.
Don't be deceived, there is contempt. She is not my friend at these moments. Like a girlfriend pointing out one's misgivings where only support should sit, she seeded uncertainty. How will I fulfill that promise. When will the bounty return? Will there be another?
Plant more seed. Look to spring. Find beauty in the wreckage.
Appreciate more fully what I had before the freeze.
FOUND IN: Education, Nature, The Farm on July 23, 2013
They fill the sky like no other. Their intensity is met only by the afternoon heat wave. They amaze, those stalks of pubescent green supporting hefty heads. In a breeze, there seems to be no reason they should stay upright. But they do.
As if paying homage, they follow the sun. Each one in unison, their angles exactly alike.
Their glow brings sunrise above ground. The hum of bumblebees is the first sound to the ear.
The seeds suggest greatness, plump, strong and firm to the touch. Emerging in days, they growing exponentially.
Bought sunflowers at the farmers market and want to know what to do next. Here are some good tips for care and arranging them.
FOUND IN: Nature, The Farm on February 04, 2013
The monotone hum fills the row of bolted broccoli. Thousands light within the yellow flowers, looking for the golden yellow powder. Many fly with the weight of full pollen baskets back to the hive. Winter has not been a time of relaxation. Warmer than usual, it has spurred active flight looking for pollen and nectar.
We think it is a time to surround the queen, keep her warm, safe and happy. And it is. But this winter has been about more. The bounty comes early. They do not delay.
And today it was obvious as the landscape surrounding us was alive.