Reflections of Trees

 

Not a single tree is perfect in these photos.  They all have grown crooked or have curved branches growing toward sunlight but yet they are each beautiful.  Their graceful limbs reaching out to the light are reflected in the water.   It is their imperfection that makes them so unique and picture perfect for me.

Acquainted with the Thundering Sky

 

 

A walk at dusk when thunder clouds are gathering against the evening sky.  I have come acquainted with these clouds that covers the sky with its layers of dark mass.  Hiding the blue horizon and smothering the sun.  

 

Acquainted with the Night

By Robert Frost

 

I have been one acquainted with the night.

I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.

I have outwalked the furthest city light.

 

I have looked down the saddest city lane.

I have passed by the watchman on his beat

And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

 

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet

When far away an interrupted cry

Came over houses from another street,

 

But not to call me back or say good-bye;

And further still at an unearthly height,

One luminary clock against the sky

 

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. 

I have been one acquainted with the night.

 

 

 

Where Sleepless Waters Flow

What does one do when they cannot have a restful night and sleep does not come.  This person turns toward nature sounds and looks at photos of a mountain creek.  I close my eyes and imagine hearing the rushing waters breaking over the rocks. The rhythmic sounds of flowing waters is better then counting sheep.

To The River Charles

River! that in silence windest
Through the meadows, bright and free,
Till at length thy rest thou findest
In the bosom of the sea!

Four long years of mingled feeling,
Half in rest, and half in strife,
I have seen thy waters stealing
Onward, like the stream of life.

Thou hast taught me, Silent River!
Many a lesson, deep and long;
Thou hast been a generous giver;
I can give thee but a song.

Oft in sadness and in illness,
I have watched thy current glide,
Till the beauty of its stillness
Overflowed me, like a tide.

And in better hours and brighter,
When I saw thy waters gleam,
I have felt my heart beat lighter,
And leap onward with thy stream.

Not for this alone I love thee,
Nor because thy waves of blue
From celestial seas above thee
Take their own celestial hue.

Where yon shadowy woodlands hide thee,
And thy waters disappear,
Friends I love have dwelt beside thee,
And have made thy margin dear.

More than this;--thy name reminds me
Of three friends, all true and tried;
And that name, like magic, binds me
Closer, closer to thy side.

Friends my soul with joy remembers!
How like quivering flames they start,
When I fan the living embers
On the hearth-stone of my heart!

'T is for this, thou Silent River!
That my spirit leans to thee;
Thou hast been a generous giver,
Take this idle song from me.

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Aslan Shakes his Mane

These are photos of early spring at the Azalea Garden Overlook in Callaway Gardens.  The entire garden is so manicured that it was nice to see one rustic crooked bird house in the mist of such gorgeous flowers.  The golden colors made me think of Aslan in Narnia.  I love the image of the lantern shining against the snow in Narnia.  This is a quote from C. S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. When Aslan "shakes his mane, we shall have spring again."

"Wrong will be right, when Aslan comes in sight,
At the sound of his roar, sorrows will be no more,
When he bares his teeth, winter meets its death,
And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again."

To A Butterfly

These were a few of the butterflies at the Cecil B. Day Butterfly Center.  There were not as many as usual so I did not get photos of  a large variety of butterflies.   I am not sure why the population was so low in early spring when I visited.

To A Butterfly

By William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850)

STAY near me---do not take thy flight!
A little longer stay in sight!
Much converse do I find I thee,
Historian of my infancy !
Float near me; do not yet depart!
Dead times revive in thee:
Thou bring'st, gay creature as thou art!
A solemn image to my heart,
My father's family!

Oh! pleasant, pleasant were the days,
The time, when, in our childish plays,
My sister Emmeline and I
Together chased the butterfly!
A very hunter did I rush
Upon the prey:---with leaps and spring
I followed on from brake to bush;
But she, God love her, feared to brush
The dust from off its wings.                         

Mountain Creek Lake at Callaway Gardens

Early spring at the Discovery Center on Mountain Creek Lake at Callaway Gardens.  I took my mother there for a afternoon visit.  There were very few people there so we enjoyed a quiet and peaceful walk around the center.

Nature is What We See

The Azaleas live from year to year with only mother nature to nurture and care for them and they continue to thrive.  The one word to describe how I feel when my yard is full of blooms is "happy."

Nature is What We See
by Emily Dickinson

"Nature" is what we see--
The Hill--the Afternoon--
Squirrel--Eclipse--the Bumble bee--
Nay--Nature is Heaven--
Nature is what we hear--
The Bobolink--the Sea--
Thunder--the Cricket--
Nay--Nature is Harmony--
Nature is what we know--
Yet have no art to say--
So important Our Wisdom is
To her Simplicity.

Following the Bees

In spring, my yard is in bloom with busy bees flying from flower to flower.  I thought following them so close with my camera I would get an angry bee after me, but they were too busy to notice me.  I shot dozen of pictures and selected this one bee to be my object of affection. I admit I was uncomfortable around so many bees swarming around the Azaleas.

The is an excerpt from Trapeze by Deborah Digges 1950 - 2009 "Telling the Bees"

"I fell to me to tell the bees,
though I had wanted another duty--
to be the scribbler at his death,
there chart the third day's quickening.
But fate said no, it falls to you
to tell the bees, the middle daughter.
So it was written at your birth."

Deborah Digges's poems rely on the relationship between humans and nature.  She is the author of four books of poetry.  The most recent The Wind Blows Through the Doors of My Heart (Alfred Knopf, 2010)

"Burning Bright In the Forest of the NIght"

 

 

The setting sun over Matanzas River is "burning bright in the forest of the night".  I can imagine the bright red light reflecting in the eyes of a tiger,.  The poem "Tyger" by William Blake is consider his most popular poem and has been used in lyrics, music, films and comic strips.

 

Copy A of William Blake's original printing of The Tyger, c. 1795.

 

 

The Tyger

by William Blake (1757–1827)

 

Tyger Tyger, burning bright, 

In the forests of the night; 

What immortal hand or eye, 

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies.

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand, dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder, & what art,

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand? & what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain,

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp, 

Dare its deadly terrors clasp! 

When the stars threw down their spears

And water'd heaven with their tears: 

Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright,

In the forests of the night: 

What immortal hand or eye,

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

 

 

Blake has been quoted in a weekday strip of Calvin and Hobbes, Calvin recites a line from Blake's "The Tyger", while viewing a sleeping Hobbes, lightheartedly alluding to the lines "Tyger, Tyger, burning bright..."  

 

Copper Harbor Light house

 Copper Harbor Light House is located in the harbor of Copper Harbor, Michigan on the Keweenaw Peninsula of Upper Michigan inside Fort Wilkins Historic State Park. It was a very windy day and cloudy.  My favorite poet all through high school was Edgar Allen Poe and his poem "In a kingdom by the sea...' of Annabel Lee.


Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,

   In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

   By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

   Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

   I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

   In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

   My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

   And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

   In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

   Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

   In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

   Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

   Of those who were older than we—

   Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

   Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

   Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

   In her sepulchre there by the sea—

   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

 

Edgar Allen Poe 1809–1849

 

Sunset at Pier 60 "Meeting at Midnight"

 

 

These photos were taken at Pier 60, Clearwater, Florida.  I seldom get an opportunity to take pictures at the Gulf side of the state.  It was gorgeous with sea gulls flying against the sunset. 

A favorite poet of mine is Robert Browning.  Robert Browning wrote Meeting At Night in 1845 while he was courting Elizabeth Barrett. The two exchanged many love letters and secretly eloped in 1846, despite her father's protests. Browning's urgent love for Elizabeth is clearly expressed in this poem, and it is considered the most sensual poem that he had written up to that point. As you read it, notice how he uses your senses of sight, smell, sound, and touch to help convey his passion and excitement as he travels by boat during the night to secretly see his beloved.

 

Meeting at Midnight

By Robert Browning

 

I

The grey sea and the long black land;

And the yellow half-moon large and low;

And the startled little waves that leap

In fiery ringlets from their sleep,

As I gain the cove with pushing prow,

And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

 II

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;

Three fields to cross till a farm appears;

A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch

And blue spurt of a lighted match,

And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,

Than the two hearts beating each to each!

 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning wrote one of the most famous love poems of all time.

 

How do I love Thee?

SONNET #43

 

    How do I love thee?

    Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints – I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! – and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.

 

  

At Pellicer Creek "To Be One with Each Other"

To Be One with Each Other
by George Eliot

"What greater thing is there for two human souls
than to feel that they are joined together to strengthen
each other in all labor, to minister to each other in all sorrow,
to share with each other in all gladness,
to be one with each other in the
silent unspoken memories?"



 Mary Anne Evans (22 November 1819 – 22 December 1880), was better known by her pen name George Eliot.  She was an English novelist and one of the leading writers of the Victorian era. Her novels, largely set in provincial England, are well known for their realism and psychological insight.

She used a male pen name to ensure that her works were taken seriously. Female authors published freely under their own names, but Eliot wanted to ensure that she was not seen as merely a writer of romances.

"Give All to Love"

These pictures are from Princess Park Preserve.  I like to express the beauty of my photos with poems and literary work.  "Give All to Love" is a poem written by Ralph Waldo Emerson about giving everything to love.  It is also about the death of his wife and he still loved her with all his heart and he shows his love every day.
"Give All to Love" is a poem written by Ralph Waldo Emerson. This poem is about giving everything to love. However, it's also about the death of his wife. He speaks of this with the lines "As a self of purer clay, / Tho' her parting dims the day, / Stealing grace from all alive,". However, he still loves her with all his heart. He shows his love every day and obeys his hearts true love for everything around him.

Read more about Give All to Love by Ralph Waldo Emerson Analysis & Poem by www.poemofquotes.com

Give All to Love" is a poem written by Ralph Waldo Emerson. This poem is about giving everything to love. However, it's also about the death of his wife. He speaks of this with the lines "As a self of purer clay, / Tho' her parting dims the day, / Stealing grace from all alive,". However, he still loves her with all his heart. He shows his love every day and obeys his hearts true love for everything around him

Read more about Give All to Love by Ralph Waldo Emerson Analysis & Poem by www.poemofquotes.com

Give All to Love
by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Give all to love;

Obey thy heart;

Friends, kindred, days,

Estate, good-fame,

Plans, credit and the Muse,—

Nothing refuse.

’T is a brave master;

Let it have scope:

Follow it utterly,

Hope beyond hope:

High and more high

It dives into noon,

With wing unspent,

Untold intent:

But it is a god,

Knows its own path

And the outlets of the sky.

It was never for the mean;

It requireth courage stout.

Souls above doubt,

Valor unbending,

It will reward,—

They shall return

More than they were,

And ever ascending.

Leave all for love;

Yet, hear me, yet,

One word more thy heart behoved,

One pulse more of firm endeavor,—

Keep thee to-day,

To-morrow, forever,

Free as an Arab

Of thy beloved.

Cling with life to the maid;

But when the surprise,

First vague shadow of surmise

Flits across her bosom young,

Of a joy apart from thee,

Free be she, fancy-free;

Nor thou detain her vesture’s hem,

Nor the palest rose she flung

From her summer diadem.

Though thou loved her as thyself,

As a self of purer clay,

Though her parting dims the day,

Stealing grace from all alive;

Heartily know,

When half-gods go,   

The gods arrive.

Still Waters Run Deep

 

These pictures were taken outside of Ocilla Georgia. The trees are standing in shallow but still water.  I don't know how deep the lake is but the old saying is "Still waters run deep."  A person's calm exterior often conceals great depths of character, just as the deepest streams can have the smoothest surfaces.

"The purposes of a person's heart are deep waters, but one who has insight draws them out..." Proverbs 20

The Snow Maiden

 

I call the snow covered trees the snow maidens of the Smoky Mountains for the beauty of the white delicate snow flakes that cover their branches. We have a snow maiden in our family who has a delicate beautiful soul that she needs to discover. 

 

The Snow Maiden

 

The Snow cascaded, swirled and blew,

In the Magical Kingdom

Of The Land of Snow;

Amidst The snow flakes and fairies,

The Snow Maiden dances,

Twirling on pointed toes

From moonbeam to shadow;

Her silhouette we follow

From forest to meadow;

Snow and Ice are her friends,

The coated white earth is her floor;

Center stage from heaven

The stars shine on her,

Seeking no other;

She is The Snow Maiden

Graceful and Fair,

In her fairy white dress

With star light in her hair;

Delicate and graceful

From finger tip to toe,

She's eloquent to behold;

Her eyes sparkles like Crystals

Amidst the snow fairies and sprites

She waltzes in solace

With mystical delight;

From winter's breath she came

Twirling and dancing in the chilled air;

Through the forest and the fields

The wind whispers her name,

Brilliant and translucent...Crystal

The maiden of heaven's white veil.

 

by PL Fallin

 

"Hope Is the Thing With Flower Petals"

I wanted to start off 2015 with my beautiful Hibiscus flowers that grew in my container garden last fall.  I hope to see a rebirth this spring. I don't have a green thumb so they have to survive the crazy Florida weather from hot to cold and from thunderstorms to droughts.  I enjoy these flowers in the mornings when they opened their blooms and at night when they went to sleep.  They give me hope of a new day, a new beginning and peace in the evenings.  Emily Dickinson says "Hope Is The Thing With Feathers."  I say "Hope Is The Thing With Flower Petals."

Hope Is The Thing With Feathers
By Emily Dickinson (1830 - 1886)

"Hope" is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune without words
And never stops - at all

And sweetest - in the Gale- is heard
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so any warm

I've heart it in the chilliest land
And on the strangest Sea
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb  - of me.