Maples Giving Forth Light
November 17, 2014
“The maples give forth light, like closer suns. The oaks glow with garnet fire, and all the thickets blaze with scarlets and pale gold and cinnamon. It is like the music of a trumpet.”
— Gladys Tabor, Stillmeadow Daybook
“The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
That dances as often as dance it can.”
— Samuel Taylor Coleridge, from “Christobel”
Little Daily Miracles
November 11, 2014
“What is the meaning of life? . . . a simple question; one that tended to close in on one with years. The great revelation had never come. The great revelation perhaps never did come. Instead there were little daily miracles, illuminations, matches struck unexpectedly in the dark.” — Virginia Woolf, To the Lighthouse
October, Month of Falling Leaves
October 28, 2014
October
by John Updike
The month is amber,
Gold, and brown.
Blue ghosts of smoke
Float through the town.
Great V’s of geese
Honk overhead,
And maples turn
A fiery red.
Frost bites the lawn,
The stars are slits
In a black cat’s eye
Before she spits.
At last, small witches,
Goblins, hags,
And pirates armed
With paper bags.
Their costumes hinged
On safety pins,
Go haunt a night
Of pumpkin grins.
Mid-October
October 19, 2014
Without Regret
November 16, 2013
Early Birds
October 23, 2013
Wings Like Green Moths
September 12, 2013
“They are nearly two inches long by one-half inch wide, with veined inner edges to the wings like green moths, ready to bear off their seeds.”
— Henry David Thoreau, Faith in a Seed
“In all our maples, a thin membrane, in appearance much like an insect’s wing, grows over and around the seed while the latter is being developed within its base. . . . In other words, a beautiful thin sack is woven around the seed, with a handle to it such as the wind can take hold of and it is then committed to the wind, expressly that it may transport the seed and extend the range of the species, and this it does as effectually as when seeds are sent by mail in a different kind of sack from the Patent Office.”
— Henry David Thoreau, Faith in a Seed
Ice Armor
January 10, 2013
“Every leaf and twig was this morning covered with a sparkling ice armor; even the grasses in exposed fields were hung with innumerable diamond pendants, which jingled merrily when brushed by the foot of the traveller. It was literally the wreck of jewels and the crash of gems.”
— Henry David Thoreau, Journals, January 21, 1838
I remember ice storms from my childhood in Minnesota — every tree, branch and twig was coated in a clear shield of ice. Too bright for unprotected eyes. Precarious footing. And yes, merry tinkling when the shards of ice fell down.
These frosty January mornings in Seattle are a less piercing pleasure — no crashing crystals, just a silent icy edging. Here are some photos of this magical world:
Tree-Watching Project: The Finale
December 11, 2012
This post concludes my year-long Tree-Watching Project. I started this project in December of last year and followed my “adopted” willow and maple trees through all four seasons. I will, of course, continue to notice, observe, and remark upon interesting tree happenings in the year to come, but my “official” project is over.
My “adopted” maple and willow trees have now been stripped of all their leaves after a very rainy, windy, and blustery few weeks. What leaves have not blown away remain in soggy ground cover beneath the trees.
It seems fitting to end this series with the promise of new life, the first buds on the willow tree.
You may recall that I found the inspiration for my tree-watching project from reading Seeing Trees: Discover the Extraordinary Secrets of Everyday Trees by Nancy Hugo. So for the book lovers among you, here is a review of some remarkable tree books published this year, which I found listed in this article in the New York Times Sunday Book Review. I’ve already reserved most of these titles at my local library. Enjoy!
Tree-Watching Project: Laying Down Leaves, that Pastime of Fall
November 28, 2012
“Every blade in the field — every leaf in the forest — lays down its life in its season as beautifully as it was taken up. It is the pastime of a full quarter of the year. . . . And what is that pride of our autumnal scenery but the hectic flush — its painted throes — with the November air for canvas?”
— Henry David Thoreau, “October, or Autumnal Tints”
It’s been a while since I’ve photographed my “adopted” maple trees and willow. After a few windy, blustery November days, almost all of the willow leaves have fallen. The maple holds on to its lower leaves, but the upper branches are stripped of leaves.