Tag Archives: trees

Front Door Nature

Sun set reflection

Out the front door of the apartment complex and across the street are marsh land and what is called a lake, Newton Creek Lake according to my research, the lake and park are 103.29 acres, there are walking paths and playgrounds along the way. I have recently notice men with trailers attached to their cars/truck backing up the the dock ramp to load boats which have been out on the water now that has thawed. I have not explored much and have kept pretty close to the apartment thus far due to the weather. According to the little bit of research I found they seems to be what they call “old growth” trees on the north end, whichever direction that is? I will have to explore.

Sticks and branches

Even though I now live in a very citified building nature is only moments way, trees, water, birds, and I imagine other wild life that I have yet to experience. This space offers me more opportunity to photograph in nature once I get my mojo back up to speed.

step off

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Spirit of Trees…

Last Friday I began Photo Friday here on the Reluctant Bloger. Not that all my blogs aren’t graced with photographs.  Friday is about the photographs. I looked for a poem to go along the journey of these “Trees”. Yet none captured the real essences of them.

I have been graced to walk among these trees and wood for the last several years, I have 100’s, if not 1000’s of photographs from every season, from spring to summer, into fall, and through winter.

These will be my last few weeks among these trees and wood.  I have been blessed with some amazing photographs in the past few weeks, I share them now.

Last of Autumn
Last of Autumn
Natures blessings
Natures blessings

In the 29 degree weather the warmth of these last past weeks of fall so rich and vibrant. Are jewels.

Autumn Morning Fog
Autumn Morning Fog
in the midst
in the midst

The branches and paths have been my comfort and relaxation, peacefulness is found, joy is discovered.

The Tree!
The Tree!

I share with you my companions, my comforts, my creative Muse ! Nature in all its glory, The Tree!

There are a number of Poems I found and did not use, about the Tree.

You can find many of the photos above here

The leaf !

Before another moment passes, and I am distracted by all the distraction of life. I am here, to write, well to offer you a view. This blog is about art, about photography, the process and the facts.

So Fridays will become Photo Fridays where Photographs will rule the page.

For years I have been fascinated by leaves, all seasons, all weather, and I have photographed them from buds, to blooms, to full fledge green flags flipping in the wind! To what I present today, fallen leaves, carpets of leaves.

Recently I have been photographing fallen leaves, a bit from above, shooting down at them, more fascinating is laying on the ground with me, ant level.

So the new series is being presented. With a poem “Dead Leaves” by MdAsadullah

embrace
embrace

Never think that dead leaves cannot speak.
Words can be uttered without mouth or beak.
Come in heard to hear and they’ll remain mum.
To hear them in solitude you need to come.

are they lonely
are they lonely
are you listening
are you listening

Loneliness and silence are their best friend.
You can listen only if truth you seek and intend.
If you’ve mind and heart to listen, men of clay!
Words more worthy than living they can say.

Heart is strong
Heart is strong
They will whisper..
They will whisper..

If your heart is strong and if you have no fear.
Then in storms they are very loud, very clear.
And if your heart is weak in breeze come near.
Truth of this life they will whisper in your ear.

patterns
patterns
did they speak
did they speak

 

I am grateful to have you walk this path with me today. I am honored to share these wondrous creations, the leaf with whoever wanders down a path. Please “see” .

All Photographs can be found here

What do you long for?

Last week or so ago, the poem used here today was shared by a friend on Facebook. I said I going to borrow this for my blog for I felt it resonated with my journey at the moment, and some of my photographs would complement in a visual way the journey outward to go inward. 

As I prepared the blog something spoke to me about finding out who Melissa La Flamme is. I am glad I did. Her website intrigued me, the little that I read, so I reached to her via email, and then a bit later via facebook. Where we at once connected via messaging. Making sure all was clear to publish the poem here, that she was a Jungian Psychotherapist who incorporates Shamanism into her practice, was a flash of my not so distant past a vision to create just this type of therapy combination. 

What did I long for, so unaware of a dream set aside. Called out through this poem and Melissa’s own practice. We discussed a possible guest blog or interview later in season, which now I can hardly wait for ! 

I will let the vision unfold: 

 

I AM CALLING YOU: by Melissa La Flamme

 

What do you long for?
How do you call its name?
Listen to the ways it calls to you?DSC_6550

Take your longing to the earth.
To the woods. The trail. The park. Your well-tended lawn.
And if you can get there, to the desert.
And with devotion, give your self to these questions.
Like you would a lover. A baby. A tender green shoot.
Like this, tend your own fragile heart.
Your longing will ravish you.

DSC_7833

You must ravish back.

When you do, your soul will walk you
to the soft, thirsty ground
of your being.

DSC_8122
Sink in,
all the way in.
You will lose your mind.
You will sing to rocks, seduce pine trees, make love
to red earth.

DSC_8590

Songs like this will carry you till
your own song sings you.
You must let them.

©2014 Melissa La Flamme

 

Autumn’s Treasure

 

autumn's jewels Mother nature opens her jewel box to the autumn light, azure blue, clear as crystal to illuminate her seasonal wardrobe. There are ruby reds, shimmery yellow citron,  rusted amber, and the changing shades of emerald-green to peridot. Demeter dons the first colors of mixed reds, greens with blends of yellow, orange even black. Father sky who seem to like this new gown shines brightly while the gentle wind stirs and shimmers the gleaming shades together.

Brilliant day

Persephone gathers her seasonal dress for one last dance around the forest. Decked in brilliant yellow gold that lights nature with abundant smiles into the darkest corners. For it is the last performance of the season before Old Man winter strips her naked, the fallen leaves a carpet of paisley quivering in foot-paths to acknowledge the passing of time. Death is on the way, the rusted red and brown, the glimmer gold, have fallen, the trees stand naked being fed and nurtured by decomposition, rain will dampen the sound, snow will blanket Gaia to warm her and feed her into transitions.

across the field

Yet the autumn ball is not over the shimmering rustling gown of Mother nature continues to waltz about the land leaving everyone who looks upon her, breathless, awe inspired by the wonder of her beauty. Grateful for the last bit of warm and hue the mortals go about their lives…

Crown of Gold

Cerridwen waves hello goodbye! Autumn’s treasures have begun to be placed back into hiding place until next year…

DSC_5112

all photographs can be found at http://www.redbubble.com/people/jeffstroud/ as well as http://www.flickr.com/photos/92520885@N05/

 

The poetry of Fog

The fog is an illusion—
A master of disguise,
Which hides the tangible
Before our very eyes.

But when the fog has lifted
Everything’s still there,
And the tangible
Only seemed to’ve disappeared.

In the early morning
Or late at night,
The fog descends
Upon various sites.

It gives an air of mystery
That has long prevailed.
Dangerously intriguing
Is the fog’s foggy veil.

© W.S.2009

Walterrean Salley

The Dense Fog

I see not what others see
The fog is used to blind me
That fog of routine that is of life
Unable to see what is near
It is near impossible to hear
Only the little light makes it through
That light is what I see
The possibility of unhindered vision
But that is only for a moment
For tomorrow the fog will roll back
And that is how all life is
For my generation and yours
This fog is here to stay

Stephen Mueller