The Death of a Yellow Warbler
June 4, 2012
“All that lives must die, passing through nature to eternity.”
— William Shakespeare
This yellow warbler flew into the glass windows on the library’s patio deck, and it died. One of my colleagues brought it inside, hoping that it was just stunned and would revive. But it was truly dead.
All sudden death is shocking.
I happened to be reading a book by a licensed bird rehabilitator — The Bluebird Effect: Uncommon Bonds with Common Birds by Julie Zickefoose. The book is filled with stories about encounters with birds that came into Zick’s life and home during their convalescences. She remarked on the special difficulty of working with songbirds that need feeding frequently — nestlings need to be fed every 20 to 45 minutes, from dawn to dusk! Had the warbler survived, but with broken bones, it would have required some labor-intensive care.
Spring All in a Rush
May 5, 2012
“The first days of May bring spring all in a rush.”
— Elisabeth Luard, A Cook’s Year in a Welsh Farmhouse
My camera is getting a workout every time I step outside my door. Here is a sampling of the Spring “rush” seen through my camera lens.
Painting with Pollen
April 24, 2012
You wouldn’t think that a patch of yellow would be so mesmerizing.
Wolfgang Laib’s “Pollen from Hazelnut” is currently installed at the Henry Art Gallery at the University of Washington. This unusual piece of art is a square “field” of pollen collected from the area around Laib’s home in Germany. It is part of the collection of the Henry Art Gallery, and the pollen is stored in a glass jar when it is not on exhibit on the floor for patrons to view from a doorway.
It reminded me of Rothko’s abstract “Red” paintings, only done in brilliant yellow. Your thinking mind has to constantly remind itself that it is looking at pollen, not paint. You just aren’t accustomed to seeing pollen applied as an art medium.
If you are intrigued, you can read more about this installation in a recent Seattle Times review at this link.
(Special thanks to my friend, Carol, for telling me about this exhibit and urging me to see it.)
Colors are the Smiles of Nature
April 21, 2012
“Colors are the smiles of nature.”
— Leigh Hunt
“Of all God’s gifts to the sighted man, color is holiest, the most divine, the most solemn.”
— John Ruskin
“Mere colour, unspoiled by meaning, and unallied with definite form, can speak to the soul in a thousand different ways.”
— Oscar Wilde
“Shut your eyes, wait, think of nothing. Now, open them … one sees nothing but a great coloured undulation. What then? An irradiation and glory of colour. This is what a picture should give us … an abyss in which the eye is lost, a secret germination, a coloured state of grace … loose consciousness. Descend with the painter into the dim tangled roots of things, and rise again from them in colours, be steeped in the light of them.”
— Paul Cezanne
Well, you cannot help but be steeped in the light of color during tulip season.
Forsythia: Golden Stars
March 19, 2012
“Tomorrow the twigs of forsythia will be sprinkled all over with golden stars . . .”
— Karel Capek, The Gardener’s Year
“Forsythia is pure joy. There is not an ounce, not a glimmer of sadness or even knowledge in forsythia. Pure, undiluted, untouched joy.”
— Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Yellow Crocuses: A Little Candlelight
March 18, 2012
“A little candlelight at a gray wall,
One dauntless moment snatched from the March brawl
And, like the candlelight, to be forgot.”
— Louise Beebe Wilder, Colour in My Garden
My favorite bits from the above quote are the words “March brawl,” which certainly capture the blustery weather we’ve been having lately. Yesterday it even snowed briefly during one rain shower — the drops thickened until they became snowflakes.
Today’s post celebrates the unassuming crocus, which clusters near the ground, striving to stay erect under the blows of March’s changeable weather.
Meanwhile in Seattle the Daffodils are Blooming
March 14, 2012
I arrived home from Minnesota last week to see the daffodils in bloom. Spring is much farther along here than in the Midwest. But March is fickle, and yesterday we had some snow flurries, which whisked away again in the general cold and rainy weather. The daffodils do bring a nice touch of yellow radiance to the grayness of the day.
“The sweetest and fairest of spring’s yellow blossoms has been for many weeks sending up its slender water-green spears and opening a radiant blossom here and there — until they are assembled army strong . . . Daffodil time is again upon the land.”
— Louise Beebe Wilder, Colour in My Garden
Witch Hazel
February 21, 2012
The witch hazel is blooming, mostly in yellow, but some pink, too.
The Signature Mark of Autumn
November 19, 2011
“The signature mark of autumn has arrived at last with the rains: orange of pumpkin, orange persimmon, orange lichen on rocks and fallen logs; a copper moon hung low over the orchard; moist, ruddy limbs of the madrone, russet oak leaf, storm-peeled redwood, acorns emptied by squirrels and jays; and mushrooms, orange boletes, Witch’s Butter sprouting on rotted oak, the Deadly Galerina, and of course, chanterelles, which we’ll eat tonight with pasta, goat cheese, and wine.”
— Gary Young, “The Signature Mark of Autumn”