Trees Are Poems

"Trees are poems the earth writes upon the sky."
      (Kahlil Gibran)

Early in March I took a picture of a tree across the railroad tracks.

There was something about its shape that caused me to wonder what kind of tree it was. My thinking at the time was that when it leafed out, I could identify it.

So here it is, all leafed out. Too far away for me to identify.

But my 20X Zoom brought it near enough to be reasonably sure it is a Poplar, possibly a Black Poplar. And look, it too, has catkins.

There was another tree I took a picture of today, this one down on the far side of the pond. The Chokecherries are in bloom.

Another zoomed in photo. I was trying to see what the light gray was amidst the foliage in one of the Willow trees in the wetlands behind the pond. It was just some dead limbs, but makes for an interesting picture.

It is so easy to take for granted the things we see every day - even the beautiful and wonderful things like birds, flowers, trees, clouds and sunsets. Regardless of the season, trees are poems written upon the skies.

Season Is Open

The weather seems finally to have settled into what Spring is supposed to be, sunny blue skies with airy white clouds and temperatures in the 70's. After a
l-o-n-g, cold, wet spell, today was perfect to begin planting.
The old mailbox of my youth on the farm has become my herb planter. This year it holds Sweet Mint, Sweet Basil and Lemon Balm.

"Yes, in the poor man's garden grow
Far more than herbs and flowers --
Kind thoughts, contentment, peace of mind,
And joy for weary hours."

The two deck planters as well as a large pot are planted with sun-loving Salvia in a light shade of apricot. Now that I've gotten started, each time I go shopping, I'll be looking at the plants and, most likely, bringing home more to fill more planters.

May 10 was always the magic date when I was learning the rules for planting as a child. That was the accepted date for all danger of frost to be past.

And by May 10 most of our regional birds have returned for another nesting season. I always hear the Orioles before I see them and hurry to get their feeder out. Within a few minutes they begin visiting.

We had lots of Catbirds on the farm, but this is the first year I remember seeing any here.

The Rose-breasted Grosbeaks are always welcome!

The Brown-headed Cowbirds don't have a very good reputation, but I still think they are beautiful.

I did see a Ruby-throated Hummingbird the day I put up the oriole feeder, but I haven't seen it since, nor gotten a photo. And I'm hoping to be lucky enough to see and photograph the Indigo Bunting again this year. I'm also going to go out to Green Valley Lake in hopes of seeing a Kingfisher since learning there are some there.
So there is still lots of planting and bird watching to be done. The season is open.

In Honor of My Dad

My Dad, Louis, was born 100 years ago today. This house is the one he was born in. My Grandmother, Bessie, put an X next to the window and had written on the back of the photo that that was the room where he was born.
The interesting thing, to me, is that although the family lived on many different farms in two different counties, Dad spent the majority of his life - all the years of his & Mom's marriage - just three miles from this house where he was born.

An early photo of Dad with his parents, George and Bessie. The woman on the left is his Aunt Ruby - Grandma's sister-in-law.

Dad with his little sister, Leona. He was eight years old when she was born. He had another sister, Evelyn, born when he was six, but she only lived four days.

Dad's sixth grade photo. The family moved from Highland School area in Adams County to Spaulding School area in Taylor County when he was in 6th grade.

Dad, Mom, my older brother Ron and me as a baby. This was taken at a relative's home at a dinner for some of Dad's cousins who were home on leave during WWII.

Dad and Mom with Grandma Bessie in back, Aunt Leona and Uncle Al sitting in front. Picture was taken at Grandma's acreage on the west edge of Corning.

Filling the jug with water at the spring during a family trip to Illinois in 1947. Me, Dad and Ron in back, Mom and little sis, Betty, in front.

One of my favorite pictures - Dad holding his first grandchild, my son Douglas. Doug's dad, Kenny looking on. (Fall, 1962)

Another favorite photo of Dad and Mom in 1967. I call this one "looking at love".

The year I was a senior in high school, fall of 1960, my favorite photo of Dad and me.

One final picture, one I've never shared before. It may not look like I am honoring my Father by showing him in such high jinks, but Dad did have a wicked sense of humor.

And he was really cutting up on the day this photo was taken. I'm uncertain of the identity of the woman. Grandma had written on the back "Louis and Beulah". Dad's Uncle Lawrence's wife's name was Beulah, but I don't know if she's the one pictured.

One hundred years sounds a long time and Dad has been dead for thirty-nine years, yet it seems no time at all. Happy 100th, Father.

Kindly Earth

"I look back with gladness to the day when I found the path to the land of heart's desire, and thank Fate ceaselessly with a loud voice that she did not permit town to sap all the years away while the heart was turning to wind-voices and flower-faces and the of kindly earth." (Marion Dudley Cran, The Garden of Ignorance, 1913)

"Let me arise and open the gate,
to breathe the wild warm air of the heath,
And to let in Love, and to let out Hate,
And anger at living and scorn of Fate,
To let in Life, and to let out Death."
(Violet Fane/Lady Mary Montgomerie Lamb Currie, From Dawn to Noon, 1872 and Poems, 1892)

"So I will build my altar in the fields,
And the blue sky my fretted dome shall be,
And the sweet fragrance that the wild flower yields
Shall be the incense I will yield to thee."
(To Nature by Samuel Taylor Coleridge)

I think it is only natural on this lovely spring day, that my heart and mind turn to the nurture of nature. And, if I can no longer physically be in and of Her as I long to be, I can share the expressions of kindred spirits.

Careless Catkins

This was the first year I had noticed the Birch catkins on the tree down by the pond.

"Careless upon the wind the catkins swing.
They lay a golden spell upon the morning.
From their soft glee, how many trees will spring?"
   (Mary Webb)

The Birch catkins are novel, because they are new to me. The catkins on the oak are still my favorites - careless upon the wind.

Goodnight, catkins.

Belated Beltane

Our Lady of the Cow Parsley by Elisabeth Sonrel

Yesterday was still rainy, cloudy and cold. A Beltane bonfire would have felt good - if there was enough dry wood to start one. And not only was there no May Wine to be had, there was no wine of any sort in house.

And definitely no champagne. Champagne Poster Art by Louis-Theophile Hingre.

So today, after a grocery run, I did at last have a glass of May Wine. The label alone was enough to entice me, but it also happens to be one of my favorites, a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. Prophecy Wines are new in our store - perhaps my belated Beltane was predicted?

May Day sunset with the storm clouds moving out. The April showers are past - just in time for May flowers.

Queen o' the May

"But I must gather knots of flowers,
And buds and garlands gay,
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother,
I'm to be Queen o' the May."
  (Alfred Lord Tennyson)