Snow Freckles: Photo by Noelle
“Once you can accept the universe as matter expanding into nothing that is something, wearing stripes with plaid comes easy.” Einstein
Snow Freckles: Photo Poem 34
Tag Archives: winter
Walking a Winter’s Wood
Woods along Plum Creek: Photo by Noelle
Brothers lean cover path
Offering whispers of
Springs long past
For Juan
Melt II: Photo by Noelle
Melt: Photo by Noelle
Did you know that when you take a photograph you can be in no other moment than ‘Now’. I learned this from my friend Juan. Our conversation began in a very dark time of grief. I could not find a haven from my sorrow and anger and I certainly could not stop my mind racing in an endless search for answers. He suggested I take pictures with my cell phone as I hiked the foothills near the Rockies. That it would help settle my heart and mind, if only for a moment. I did not own a camera, had not taken a photo in more than twenty years and had, in fact, jettisoned most of my personal photos in the previous year. But I had no where else to go. My rage was so great I couldn’t engage in much of the art that had filled my spirit until then.
So I began to take photos of grass and summer flowers. Most of it not very good. He’d coach me and give me ideas and my work grew. Yesterday, as I looked at these two pictures on my iPad and saw the moment caught so perfectly in this “Now”, I thought of my friend. Stay in the now and you will heal, he said. And I did.
Those drops floating in mid air, Juan, are you.
Frozen Marshes: Haiku VII
Frozen Marsh: Photo by Noelle
Winter marsh frozen
Life held still – a pause in ice
Cattails waiting Spring
Until Spring: Photo Poem 20
Grass Prison: Photo by Noelle
Little Gem
Image re-posted from Enchanted Nature Facebook page
“God is at home, it’s we who have gone out for a walk.”
Meister Eckhart
Winter Fields: Photo Poem 17
Winter Grass: Photo by Noelle
Bend in the River: Photo by Noelle
Coming Winter
Re-posted from Enchanted Nature’s Facebook page
COMING WINTER
The rain is steady across the field
And cold lays heavy on the pane
I welcome the turn inward
As fall drifts to winter’s mane
Fires are stoked without
And within a blaze burns, too
A warmth bathes my thoughts
As the blanket wraps the limbs, cocooned
Incubation brings reflection
In the way the clouds mirror on the lake
Real, rich and yet, transparent
To be remembered even as they fade
Gold leaves fall, wet and dark
In the growing wind
So I let my thoughts fall, too
Damp upon the skin
Winter lurks amongst the vines
Of the pumpkin patch, now bare
And I grow empty of a year’s losses
Floating lighter on this eve’s air
The fields are empty of there harvest
Apples are long to their bins
All things must sleep to be fertile
And I am now free to sleep in
Patience and Crawdaddies
Stained glass at Living Arts Center in Denver: Photography by Noelle
As a child I was quite the tomboy, catching bull frogs in the lake behind my house or craw daddies in the creek. I still listen to frogs on summer nights to determine where they are and to what mate they call. I’m especially fond of finding crawfish in the streams that I hike. Spring has been slow to come to Colorado and the creek is running fast, deep, ice cold and swollen with snow melt. Not very hospitable for a crawfish. Still, I look. Today, I was about to turn away after quite some time standing, when it’s tail caught my eye as it scurried across the creek bed beneath a rock. Life! Spring is here!
I meditate so that I may cultivate the quiet, the patience, the awareness and the love for this moment. Even the long waiting part. Even if there’d been no crustacean. Even with the red wing blackbirds that squawk like old Bolsheviks into my ear from the thicket for my intrusion. May you live a long life my mud-digging friend. You lit up my heart tonight.
Meditation Travelogue 
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