And the shells, oh the shells. If only our homes were built so - Thoreau

The sun creates beauty through the agency of water. Clouds, fog, raindrops prisming a rainbow, wet sand mirroring the last gold.

A Tree With Attitude

Last fall I snapped this picture of a tree with an attitude. Today I gave him a reason :D
Click for a better look.

Screensaver Beauty - (from internet snapshots)

Cape Morning

Screensaver Whimsy -(from internet snapshots)

Snow Angel
A Twiggy Hug - Click for better look :)

What is Beautiful - The Eye of the Beholder

Scrolling through my screensaver photos this morning, I decided to delete those that for some reason didn't deliver that 'Wow' or 'Oh, my' or that little twitch at the corner of your mouth that precedes a smile which are my litmus tests for a place in the queue. Some I'd found on the internet by "Googling" snow or daffodils or spring landscapes. Many are snapshots I'd stuck in drawers over the years and marked 'nice . . . .'
On analysis, the images that made the cut shared one or both of two qualities.
1.) Something is about to happen. Energy and chance balance at some tipping point. Change hovers in a shaft of sunlight made visible in morning vapor or in frost sublimating in a river's breath or in the rapt attention in a deer's eyes. One feels that tingle of anticipation in the ephemeral now.
2.) Captured whimsy - a snow angel glowing from the snow - one person's flapping celebration of a snowstorm recorded for a starlite evening on the winter lawn of a college campus or snowmen wrapped in twiggy embrace.
The snowy egret I've posted above is one I captured on film years ago. He qualifies in both categories - don't you think?

Sunshine on My Shoulders

This picture of an anhinga was taken perhaps 10 years ago here on Sanibel Island. The piece of driftwood is nowhere in evidence today (hopefully some descendants of the bird remain), but the sun is still coaxing the local bird population and the snowbirds from the north to strrrrretch out and feel the warmth on their weary bones. AHHHH : )

But Still, It Moves!

Out from under the opaque Ohio clouds one finds the roundness again. The spheres still travel in the orbits whose revelations landed Galileo under house arrest. Eroded beaches, freshly sawn tree stumps, tattered feathers and ancient lobster traps tossed up by churning water proclaim our headlong flight through the universe. Looking out and up over great water that obeys the forces of orbiting masses renews the wonder, the participation in mystery.

A Dream of Spring

Goslings and doting parents - new tender grass. A dream of spring. I posted this picture to remind myself and any winter-weary readers that sunny days will return - brighter spirits ,too.
Teasdale's poem, "April".
I took this picture just as the sun cleared the edge of the marsh at Crane Creek Park.

Welcome Little Katelyn

Mom and Dad and little Katelyn.

Let the snow blow and the clouds scud - the sun is still shining at the home of my niece and her husband. Spring has arrived with the new blossom in their family - Katelyn Marie, who arrived on January fourth. Welcome precious. The world is a brighter place for your arrival.

"Dashboards"

Guess it's time to post a poem. Something light.

Dashboards
by
Cathy Wilson

Other than his headstone
what could speak with more precision
about a man's disposition
than his dashboard.

It's out there - in the bright glare.

So friends, foes and his wife
can view the flotsam of his life
through the shield that won't be one,
as it lets their judgments through to rain on:
the coffee spills the cigar stubs,
the souvenirs from the Cubs.

His life revealed upon the dash
could set the tone of his funeral mass
where lying still beneath the rafters
he'll regret the mourners' smirky laughter
and spiritually wring his folded hands
and wish he'd made some pre-death plans
to wipe away a bit of dust
and plant some books by Robert Frost
so those who grieve could write some lines
about a nature so refined,
they found his books of poetry
wherein the odes to winter trees
were tagged by tear-stained memories
of when he lost the lotteries.


Robert Frost
Trees

The Carolina Wren

I think my little wren needs sunshine too. Still, he's singing outside with his own dream of spring.
Listen . . . .
Click on my beak!
(if you can find it : )

Jacob Marley - Lite!

Click his nose!
The two-trunked maple tree that dropped arm-sized branches through my porch skylights had to be tamed. I begged concerned parties to allow 20 feet of trunk to remain aloft for possible woodpecker holes. For two years the woodpeckers have declined, but Jacob Marley took up residence sometime back in December while I was stringing twinkle lights across the dogwoods.

Perhaps a Prayer . . . is Answered : )

I wrote the following yesterday on the arrival of my grand neice, Katelyn Marie Lill whom today we welcome into this wonderful world. When I posted originally, there was some concern - now allayed, that she and her mother, Sarah, were having a difficult time. I'd written the following:
Some blossoms open in a spring still wresting with winter's unraveling cloak. My neice and her new daughter are thus buffeted today. Send gentle thoughts, your prayers perhaps - that the wind is tempered to the lamb.

Wonderful

He's headed back home. After patiently sharing the journey across the dark, glittery December bridge into the new year, he turns toward his own life. As fagrance clings to the hands of the gardner who shares his flowers, so should our son sift laughter, wisdom and knowledge from his hands, face and heart. May the joy he gives to us, warm his heart and light his way 'til we're together again.

Gray Days in Ohio

There is no sun in northwest Ohio today. The skylights on the back porch are no brighter than my laptop screen. After so many days of slab gray, a sunbeam striking the tops of the bare trees beyond my window would fill my heart with hope. But, like the rest of nature in this winter-locked land, I'll wait. Click Thoreau to pass some time musing about the wisdom that may come of watching a sunrise, listening and waiting.

"Something Told The Wild Geese" by Rachel Field

Something told the wild geese
It was time to go;
Though the fields lay golden
Something whispered, . . . "Snow".

Leaves were green and stirring,
Berries luster-glossed,
But beneath warm feathers
Something cautioned . . . "frost"

All the sagging orchard steamed with amber spice
But each wild breast stiffened at remember "ice".

Something told the wild geese it was time to fly.
Summer sun was on their wings
Winter in their cry!

Listen!
Click Canada Goose
Toledo Botanic Garden

The Possum's Solstice Visit

There he was after a long absence, slowly skirting my porch, looking for food. The temperature had crept above freezing for the first time in weeks. After a month of deep slumber he moved stiffly. I was glad I'd anticipated his visit and had tossed bread beneath the steps. It made my heart swell and tears well to see his pink fingers grasp the crusts. He ate quickly and waddled into the damp night. I think we both slept better.
Henry David Throreau wrote about Winter Animals.

Listen to the Gray Tree Frog

My little banner denizen. Click and listen to the gray tree frog photogaphed resting on a daylily leaf beside Bob and Robin's doorstep. ( A hint: Shine the flashlight on the extreme right side)
During a soft summer night he reminds us to look up at the constellations and to listen as mystery sifts from above and eddies beneath and around us. Listen !

More Favorites

Two more of my favorite things!

Nieces! :oD

Laura & Kate

My Favorite Things

Jody and Keith last fall above South Park in Colorado. Pure gold.
Now, look at some glitter:
Jody's research.

Home-town Webcam

Above a valley formed by a glacier as it retreated north 10 thousand years ago, our webcam records the seasons as they ebb and flow across time and our hearts. The town nestled below is Loudonville, Ohio. This picture records a late December day as the sun, low in the southern sky, briefly lit our flags before it dipped beneath the winter horizon. Happy New Year, all! May God bless this lovely land, and all who toil and dream within her. America, land that I love.

My Winter Visitor

This little Pine Warbler visited my suet feeders during our frigid December weather. I sent this picture to Rare Bird as these warblers should be well south this time of year. My post on Rare Bird generated a great deal of interest and perhaps a little envy ;-)

The North Wind

The North Wind blew throughout the night and gave the milkweed quite a fright.

(Taken at Secor Metropark last fall)