I first noticed an elderberry bush growing beside the pond two years ago. It is amazing to me how quickly it has grown. Now that it is larger I notice it more. And this year for the first time, the birds have not eaten all the berries as soon as they show a bit of purple color. So lately I’ve been enjoying
Elderberry Reveries and Duck Tales
as I photograph the bush and its ripening fruit from different vantage points in different kinds of light. (More on the duck tales below.) Yesterday I went out in the backyard and got up close to make photographs. And earlier in the day I used my telephoto lens through the living room window to photograph it from a higher vantage point. This wild plant that the birds probably “planted” is a beautiful and valuable addition to the pond landscape.
I also continue to enjoy photographing reflections in the pond at different times of day. With all the rain this year our neighbor’s garden on the other side of the pond is lusher and greener than ever, creating beautiful Monet-like reflections in the pond.
It continues to amaze me how I never seem to tire of photographing my own backyard and the pond beyond. It changes hour to hour, day to day and when I pay attention, I see so much beauty unfolding before me.
This morning I spotted a lone diving duck in the pond. I believe that it is an immature hooded merganser. Watching it dive and surface, dive and surface entertained me for a long time.
Book Talk
I am an avid reader, usually reading at least 3-4 books each week. But lately I noticed that I had fallen into a pattern of “lazy” reading where I read mostly light fiction, mysteries, and romance books, nothing that required a lot of effort or thought. The past few weeks I realized that I had become very tired of such light reading fare. So I began looking for books with more substance and food for thought and found several that I am enjoying greatly.
Right now I am reading Still Life by Sarah Winman. Besides being an intriguing story with deeply interesting oh so fallible characters and an unusual story line, her writing is so lyrical and so true it touches my heart deeply.
So, time heals. Mostly. Sometimes carelessly. And in unsuspecting moments, the pain catches and reminds one of all that’s been missing. The fulcrum of what might have been. But then it passes. Winter moves into spring and swallows return. The proximity of new skin returns to the sheets. Beauty does what is required. Jobs fulfill and conversations inspire. Loneliness becomes a mere Sunday. Scattered clothes. Empty bowls. Rotting fruit. Passing time. But still life in all its beauty and complexity.
― Still Life
Her characters are both beautiful and broken, each in his or her own unique way, much like all of us. But through the story line a thread of compassion and love for this human journey flows like a river of mercy. I’ll share one more quote and then close for today.
And there, a sudden clearing in the fog, as if heaven’s chenille had been pulled back just for him. Same frail finger moving across the celestial architecture. Across the constellations, and the containment and hopes of all they were. And from gambler to philosopher, he said, I’ve lived under the fickle movement of planetary adventure. I’ve encountered long dark nights when the sirens sound. But the moment stars align, and the shift of sweet wind greets you of a morning, this is when mystery becomes knowing and fortune becomes love—”
― Still Life
Winman’s descriptions of nature make me feel as if I am there. Sorry readers, I can’t stop, found one more quote that I want to share…
The familiar cold rush hit Evelyn. Thirteen degrees against the high twenties of the air, the inner gasp and the letting go. She swam eye-level to the green water, as clouds were bothered by the breeze, and wavelets crested by sunlight. These were Evelyn’s favourite days, her spring awakening. (Past the water lilies again, and the bulrushes.) Dappled light on overhanging tree trunks brought motion to the static monsters, and willows draped low to meet their vivid reflection. She breathed steadily through her nose and the ducks matched the ponderous ease of her breaststroke. A heron took off majestically from the bank and flew low across her path. She was in heaven.
― Still Life
Don’t her words make you feel the beauty and wonder of it all, the joys and sorrows, the full catastrophe of our lives? To me her words feel like northern lights shimmering in the night sky, falling stars, loss and disappointment, love and acceptance, and most of all prose poems about how to love life in all its complexity.
Have a beautiful weekend friends.
May you walk in beauty.
0 Comments