"A poet must be a psychologist, but a secret one: he should know and feel the roots of phenomena but present only the phenomena themselves in full bloom or as they fade away."
"White and yellow, kill a fellow. Purple and blue, good for you. Red... could be good, could be dead..." - berry mnemonic from former Green Beret Myke Hawke, discussing outdoor survival tips on Good Morning America
“I made myself a glass of chocolate milk using enough syrup for three normal glasses. I also made myself four peanut butter crackers. Then I walked out the living room door to our terrace. The trees were coming! New green was all over ... green so new that it was kissing yellow.” -E.L. Konigsburg,"Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley and Me, Elizabeth"
The humble potentilla blooms relentlessly in countless home and parking lot landscapes. While use in medicine sparked its medieval Latin name root meaning "powerful little (plant)", its persistent flowers are a forceful reminder toward cheer and resilience. Hurrah for the strength of the small !
“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.” ― Roald Dahl
Perhaps it’s merely an emotional Doppler effect from handling the first seed catalogue in yesterday’s mail, or maybe there really is so much angst-laden waiting projected from this wintry backyard scene.
Waiting for enough sun to eat al fresco dinners on the sheltered patio.
Waiting for new shoots on the bare little shrub that reminds me of the pirated forsythia branches waiting to root in my milk glass vase - the one my sister secretly covets that features vertically aligned white bumps.
Waiting for new, soft, pale tips to peek shyly from the ends of the pine branches.
Waiting for a fresh coat of fence stain to counteract monts of weathering winter.
Waiting for the snow to fully melt and not blow back in overnight.
Interestingly, my initial view of this night-time courtyard produced feelings of cozy peace. Timing is everything, so they say. I don’t care what paranoid thoughts the groundhog had about his shadow - it’s high time for some early signs of spring.
Here I've been admiring this bush every workday on my way into the building with the thought that it was a dwarf weeping Japanese maple. A google search for a link disabused me of this notion. So, if you happen to know what it really is, comment & give us the 4-1-1.
Raindrops are rather fascinating little gems. Or they could just fall into my general fixation with shiny things.
One thing - well, actually, two things - I appreciate about all the rain we’re having this summer: (1) we haven't had to water the lawn much, and (2) the natural light is fabulous for photos.