My Kitchen Window

Earlier this year I decided to do all the dishes by hand.  Standing in front of the sink, feeling the warm water and suds on my hands and looking out the window as the seasons, one by one go by -- what a joy.

It has been a total delight to see the seasons present themselves in the woods behind our house.  I have to say that Autumn, which seems to have ended well before the deadline, was nothing less than a joy to observe.  Wanting to keep a 'record' of that beautiful season I filled a box lid with my two favorite leaves.  Happily I'll have them nearby to take me through these somewhat barren days of Winter.

It was as if overnight, the weather got cold and the trees shed their colorful leaves.  Each season brings its own beauty and these days my window frames bare branches, the 'bones of the trees are outlined against deep blue skies.  

"Trees are poems that earth writes upon the sky." - Kahlil Gibran

Silent Trees

The other day, as I looked out the kitchen window, I realized that the leaves on the trees were gone.  I was looking at the bare bones of the trees that share this small space with me.

For the first time in many months I could see beyond the trees.  I could see the blue sky. I could see each branch as it reached for the sky.

Some trees had tangled their branches with another -- as if reaching out to each other. Others stood proud showing just how very, very tall they are.  And I viewed them in silence and with awe that I should have this beautiful, magical forest outside my back door.

"When one sees the tree in leaf, one thinks the beauty of the tree is in its leaves, and then one sees the bare tree." - Sarah Brana Barak

Winter's Ending

In some ways Winter can be a 'lonely' season.  We are often captives inside our warm, dry homes - while wind and snow and ice rage outside.  We are hermits of a sort.

Now it is March and Spring is not far away.  As I walked this morning I looked up at the bare limbs of the Winter trees.  

Behind them was a brilliant blue sky.  It was like an interim between the two seasons - with each season represented in the simpleness of bare trees and deep blue sky.

How I love the change of seasons.  Just as I'm getting tired of one the next one appears. 

"When the seasons shift, even the subtle beginning, the scent of a promised change, I feel something stir inside me.  Hopefulness? Gratitude? Openness? Whatever it is, it's welcome." - Kristin Armstrong

Hidey Holes

Where do they go, these little ones, when the snow piles deep and the air is cold?
Perhaps they go into their 'hidey-holes'.  Scattered here and there on our property are holes and slots that leave my imagination wide open as to who or what might live within.

Is there a whole little family of voles just sitting down to dinner?  Telling each other what they did during the day? And giving thanks for no more snow to hinder their run abouts?

Are the 'children' being read to as they snuggle down into their bed? Or at the very least are oral tales being told of the strength of their early settlers?

Shhh, I don't dare disturb them.  Its enough to know that a whole family might live right beneath my feet. I wish them warmth during these long winter nights.

"The home should be the treasure chest of living." - Le Corbusier

November's Sky

As I write this the rain is coming down outside.  Steadily, since sometime in the night, it fills the dips in the roads and makes puddles everywhere.

These pictures were taken a few days before the rain, but as you can see the sky was overcast and predicting rainy days. I did want to get a couple of fall leaf color trees off to you -- before they are all gone.

Its been one of our best color seasons -- does that mean it will be a cold winter?  Does that mean it will be an early spring?  The seasons bring so many questions - and often the answers aren't anywhere near correct.

Guess its best to take each day as it comes savoring its richness in whatever form we are given.

"Delicious autumn!  My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." - George Eliot

Deep Within the Forest

Each summer, as I walk up the hill, I lose more and more of my 'view'.  I am hemmed in by trees and shrubs and while a patch of sky might show through - looking into the forest I only see a wall of green.

In past years this has disturbed me.  Being an 'open spaces' person, claustrophobia can sometimes set in.  This year, having had my 'desert fix' and the wide open spaces,  I'm finding the trees to be a solace.  This year they are sheltering me rather than holding me in their vast green grip.

Today as I walked I spotted the first of the berries that sometime appear and sometimes don't  They seem quite abundant this year, but very slow to ripen.  However I did end up with a small handful and I'll be walking with my little collecting bag for the next week or so.

"I believe that there is a subtle magnetism in Nature, which, if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us right". - Henry David Thoreau

A Spring Morning

As each season arrives I think to myself 'this is my favorite time of the year'.  Then as the season goes on I get tired of the snow or the heat or the whatever...  I guess I just love the changes of the seasons. Here I am on a spring morning.  The picture above was taken from my kitchen window - looking out at the tops of the trees in their vivid bright green foliage.

Starting out on my walk - I stop at the end of our driveway to savor the irises and flame azaleas all in full bloom.

As I walk up the hill I surprise both a squirrel and a rabbit.  Usually they dash off as soon as they sense I am near, but these must have know that I had no ill intentions and they sat pretty still.

Looking up into the sky I stood still looking at the burgeoning clouds, which threaten a sprinkle or two and the blue sky behind the clouds.

This is the time in the forest where I can actually see something through the trees as they haven't all leafed out.  Its the best time ever with new leaves, new flowers and young animals savoring this spring morning.  

"I need the seasons to live to the rhythm of rain and sun." - Sophie Marceau

Quietude

This is the quiet time.  Only a slight tune from the chimes by the front door will break the silence.

The croaking frogs are gone, or burrowed into the mud for the winter.  They didn't leave a forwarding address so I hope they find their way back to their pond this coming spring.

The trees are bare although they still stand tall and straight in the midst of the worst storms.

The only noise I hear on this back path is the sound of acorns crunching underneath -- which of course tells all the creatures in the woods that I am wandering around.

"You do not need to leave your room.  Remain sitting at your table and listen.  Do not even listen, simply wait, be quiet still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked,  it has no choice, it will roll in ecstasy at your feet." - Franz Kafka

The Green Wall

It is during this time of the year, here in Western North Carolina that I get hit by 'the green wall'.  Everywhere there is green -- and not just in lawns but in shrubs, bushes and trees - by the millions.

Each year I go through a semi-claustrophobic period.  Most people would say I'm crazy - what's not to like about all the beauty around me?  I think my feelings are based on being a 'western' girl.  I grew up living on the beach -- I spent much of my adulthood in desert areas.  I value the sight of the sun rising and setting in all its splendor.  I value the night sky with the stars spread from horizon to horizon.  I like knowing exactly where I am at any given time.

The first time we moved to the east and I made a drive out of my neighborhood, I got so lost.  I must have passed the same place three times before I realized I was going around in circles.  There was green everywhere.  It all looked the same and it was quite unnerving.

I love the feeling of standing in the desert and seeing and feeling the world spread out before me.  Its no longer about 'me' its about this incredible planet that we inhabit and the vastness of it compared to my smallness.  

For now I'll try to push my 'green phobia' aside - because fall and winter will soon be here and then I can complain about the cold and the leaves to rake - but by gosh I'll know where I am at any one time. *smile*

"Any landscape is a condition of the spirit." - Henri Frederic Amiel

A Weaving

This is the only time of the year, in my little part of the country, where I can see 'inside' the trees that surround us.  Most of the year their bones are hidden inside leaf upon green leaf.  

On a recent walk I decided to record some of them - perhaps for a playback in the summer when I'm feeling closed in by their presence.  Of course they begin at the roots - here covered by delicate moss and protected from the cold by their former leaves.

Looking up, I can actually see a beautiful blue sky.  Cold, yes, but expansive - I feel like I want to fly to the topmost branch where I could look out and see forever.

These branches, which I normally cannot see, now form lovely, intricate weavings. Standing below I realize how small I am in this universe and I like it.

"We sleep, but the loom of life never stops, and the pattern which was weaving when the sun went down is weaving when it comes up in the morning." - Henry Ward Beecher

A Remnant of Summer

 

A short walk in the woods of the Pisgah Forest the other day.

There was damage to be seen.  A tree had broken at some point and only the bottom of the trunk was left.  But with that there was still growth.  Moss covers large sections and lichen type things grow almost symmetrically along the trunk.

A large tree had toppled over, pulled out of the ground probably during one of our many summer storms.  Already thoroughly wet ground combined with wind tore this tree down where it fell across the bottom of a huge rock. 

It is when I see this and the above picture that my fondness for rocks, both large and small, comes to the forefront.  Perhaps it comes from my desert dwelling years, perhaps I am just in awe of the beating they take in the environment and still they stand. I am always in awe of them.

This old bridge also contains rocks which have darkened with age and the elements.  At this time of the year when the water is down in the streams it seems strange to have such a large bridge standing guard over such a small amount of water.

"Geologists have a saying - rocks remember." - Neil Armstrong

Stand Still

We took a walk up one of the trails in the Pisgah Forest the other day.  It was early morning and dew was still on some of the leaves.  We were literally surrounded on all sides - above and below - with green.

We walked across streams.

We wandered through and beside and past all manner of ferns, mosses, grasses, shrubs and trees.  Except for little slices of blue sky that sometimes appeared above - we were in a green world.

At the end of the trail we were greeted by this waterfall -- pouring down with a rushing noise. 


Lost
Stand still.
The trees ahead and the bushes beside you Are not lost.
Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you,
If you leave it you may come back again, saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still.
The forest knows Where you are.
You must let it find you.
An old Native American elder story rendered into modern English by David Wagoner, in The Heart Aroused - Poetry and the Preservation of the Soul in Corporate America by David Whyte, Currency Doubleday, New York, 1996.

Desert Trees

If you've been a long-time visitor to my blog you know that I have a fascination with trees - or at least the trunks of trees.  I'm always looking for patterns in them and marveling at their shapes, forms and textures.

Our recent trip to the southwest desert allowed me many 'tree events'.  Desert trees are always very inspiring to me.  They are constantly subjected to the forces of nature.  Sun, rain, snow and especially wind can shape these beauties into 'twisty' forms that leave me in awe.

We found this lovely winter white tree in Nevada.  When we asked its name we were told it was the "Snowball" tree.  Its blooms, as they fall from the tree, leave the sidewalks and yards covered with white petals.  Doesn't the trunk look like its advertising winter all year long?  Although it might look like someone has carved into this tree to make the designs it has formed these markings in its bark all by itself.

This pine tree was found on the plains that surround the drop into the Rio Grande River.  Very blustery there and as you can see the wind has been playing games by twisting its trunk into lovely, intricate shapes.

"To touch the earth is to have harmony with nature." - Oglala Sioux