Thursday, June 25, 2015

a country weekend


After the four hour drive, up Weaver Hollow Road, then a steep plunge down to our house.

frog pond at dusk
 I walk the property, making sure all is well.

buttercups, rocks, lichen and brook


the blue hills of the western Catskills

forget-me-nots
 Water and wildflowers, wildflowers and water.

the waterfall
 Wandering, gazing, pondering.

frog pond by day

orange hawkweed a/k/a devil's paintbrush

Ferns, lichen, moss. Stones, bluets, blackberries. Every day in the same places I would seen new things, things anew. There were friends and family, lovingly prepared meals, country roads, farmers markets, my favorite used books store, a gallery opening for a dear friend. I exhale, take a deep breath, breathe.

Thursday, June 11, 2015

green land, pink sea




It was exactly a year ago that the phrase 
"green land, pink sea" occurred to me, 
as I observed the fat round peony buds.
(see the end of this post)



I obsessed on that vision for a while, painting it, writing a poem.
I moved on, but now I'm there again 
looking for meaning in a flower.



This year, I've been observing the peonies closely,
even reading a bit of an old botany text to try to understand.
Again I'm wondering what can I do with it?

Nothing is better than the thing itself.