Ice world, Catskills

 

They seem alive, these icy wonders,
constantly melting and refreezing, morphing

covering rock, moss and fern

hanging in the air.

a country weekend, autumn

 I rarely get to the country at the peak of fall colors,

always a little early or a little late. 

But this year it couldn't have been more beautiful. 

 Mesmerizing, inviting reverie and giddy moments,

fleeting glimpses of the profound.

Nature. Earth.

The backroads of upstate New York ablaze.

For the first time, I saw the changing color of the ferns, 

how lovely they are.

Our property is shady and damp, filled with ferns, 

so why haven't I ever taken this in before?

I could study this landscape for the rest of my life 

and never see it all.

pinecones and sweet peas

Winter, Andes New York

Last night a raccoon joined the rabbits at the flower pot--it's a peaceable kingdom around here. Despite the fact that a pinecone was the symbol on business cards, etc. for Country Weekend the store (and is now a convenient avatar) I didn't realize that they are a regular source of food for birds and squirrels until I read Bernd Heinrich's Winter World.

"...while spruce cones stay long on the trees, the seeds fall out of them as the cones dry and the bracts curl out." He describes chickadees hopping about fresh snow eating spruce seeds, nuthatches picking them out of the cones on the trees, and squirrel chewed cones under the trees. He does this in great detail, counting how many seeds per cone (80) and when and how a squirrel decides to attack or discard one. (Far too long for a blog post, it involves how full of seeds a cone must be to make prying apart the bracts worthwhile.) He then investigates the seeds of balsam firs. I do love a passionate naturalist.

Winter, Naples Florida

A year ago, I was in Florida. Now I'm in snow-covered Massachusetts, but yesterday it was 40 degrees, almost balmy--I drove with the window open. The little girls who live across the street are riding their scooters in the driveway. With the time change this weekend we get an extra hour of light, and that will make all the difference.

If you are more interested in fashion than pinecones you will enjoy this short Bill Cunningham video where he describes a trend of dusky pastels in winter wear--he calls them sweet pea colors. More about Bill Cunningham here.

Enjoy your weekend!

Jen

winter reading

Looking for answers I am reading Winter World, by Bernard Heinrich. I've not discovered the secret of deer winter watering holes, but I did find out why ice doesn't sink:

There is something quite remarkable, simple, and yet profoundly important that happens when water turns to ice in a pond. Compare this with what happens when water turns to ice in a cloud. In a cloud, the ice crystals fall because water and ice are heavier than air and the gas phase of water. However water becomes lighter when it transforms from a liquid to a solid state.

Is that something I should have known?

 I just finished rereading The English Patient, by Michael Ondaatje. Oh, that man can write.

Sometimes when she is able to spend the night with him they are wakened by the three minarets of the city beginning their prayers before dawn. He walks with her through the indigo markets that lie between South Cairo and her home. The beautiful songs of faith enter the air like arrows, one minaret answering another, as if passing on a rumor of the two of them as they walk through the cold morning air, the smell of charcoal and hemp already making the air profound. 

###

Read him slowly, dear girl, you must read Kipling slowly. Watch carefully where the commas fall so you can discover the natural pauses. He is a writer who used pen and ink. He looked up from the page a lot, I believe, stared through his window and listened to birds, as most writers who are alone do. Some do not know the names of birds, though he did. Your eye is too quick and North American. Think about the speed of his pen. What an appalling, barnacled old first paragraph it is otherwise.

I keep thinking about the phrase "appalling, barnacled old first paragraph". The brilliant use of the word barnacled. I've read most of Ondaatje's books, but not In the Skin of a Lion. That's next.

we prize any tenderness

Cats are skilled at finding warm places. Here Aji nests on moth-eaten sweaters tossed aside temporarily, (they now serve as yet another cat bed).

It's been bitter cold and icy for so long that I can't remember the last time I took a walk for pleasure. But there is bright sun today and so I will venture out, "go forth in winter" for a stroll before tomorrow's storm.

"If you are sick and despairing, go forth in winter and see the red alder catkins dangling at the extremity of the twigs all in the wintry air, like long, hard mulberries, promising a new spring and the fulfillment of all our hopes. We prize any tenderness, any softening in the winter, catkins, birds nests, insect life, etc."

 --Thoreau

I especially love the last sentence.

If you're wondering (like I was) what a red alder catkin is, see here.

winter whimsy

We're expecting our first big snow tomorrow, conveniently on Saturday. I'm afraid I might cover every surface in the house with bottle brush trees and deer. So far they are confined to the mantle, but it could happen. I feel the temptation lurking, waiting to pounce.

Enjoy your weekend.

xo, Jen

pine needles, fragments

 I've been painting evergreens, lots of them. A large canvas divided into grids (again) with two or three trees in each square. I started out simple, but I keep adding layers and thinking about all the ways we see them--close up, at a distance, layered with other trees, in the forest, against a house, in the house...soft needles, sharp needles, spruce, pine, fir, cypress, juniper...

When I paint something realistic I'm more interested in the idea of the thing, the sense of it, than the thing itself, so it becomes semi-abstract (or semi-realistic) like a quick glimpse out the window or a memory, or a line in a poem. Edges, fragments.

One of the things I like about painting-- I don't have to think, (beyond simple questions of color and composition). I'm completely absorbed in the moment. Like a dance or jazz--improvisation, meditation.

seed to stem

You know how I love anything related to nature, so when I heard about Seed to Stem in Worcester, (Massachusetts) I had to go. Filled with natural objects and curiosities, it's one of those stores that's really loved by its owners. You know what I mean?

Fun and interesting, science and nature and art.

Everything beautifully displayed.

Filled with air plants, succulents, and cacti, in a marvelous variety of containers.

A year ago I closed the doors to my own nature-inspired store. I know the hard work that goes into a store like this--time, money, effort. You have to be passionate about what you're doing. It's about sharing something you love as much (if not more) as it is about selling.

Inspiring, educational, beautiful, weird, it's all here.

Cute, and he doesn't eat the birdseed.

I fell hard for this starfish fossil, so it came home, along with the little air plant in a geode. For someone, like me, who hates to shop, this is a great place to buy gifts. A bit of fresh air in the polluted world of buy, buy, buy. Do you have a place where shopping is enjoyable, positive, not a chore?

Something fun on their Instagram page.
Seed to Stem website and blog here.

flowers in the wild

Wildflowers were everywhere in the country this weekend--fields, roadsides, farmers markets and meadows. As I wandered I noticed many single species tucked here and there in unexpected places--between stones, creekside, peeping out from a fallen tree...

 How lovely and hardy they are. Each one has something to say.

my wild kingdom

The rabbits are practically tame this year. 

Luke and I saw three of them playing ring around the rosy.
We really did.

  I feel like I'm living in a Beatrix Potter book.

Lily and butterfly. What else is there to say? But hey, I saw a black bear last weekend. Before I could take a picture a motorcycle came along and frightened it away. 

Yesterday I took a day trip to the shore

and this guy warned me that a hard rain was coming. It did.

I asked Aji to wash the windows. She was up there anyway.

She gave me the We were worshipped by the Egyptians cat look. You know the one.
We don't do windows.

wondering

When I go to the country I spend as much time outside as I can--walking, wandering, wading, gazing, daydreaming.

As though I'm trying to memorize it--the endless beauty, fascination, variations, permutations, the magnificence of nature--and carry it within.

As though somehow I will learn from it, become closer to the person I want to be.