"The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way.
Some see Nature all ridicule and deformity,
and some scarce see Nature at all.
But to the eyes of the man of imagination,
Nature is Imagination itself."
William Blake
Snow arrived yesterday turning the trees into a glistening display of winter's glory. Faerie magic to feed the imagination, to lure thoughts inward, to nuture cravings for firelight intimate moments, all set to jazzy bluesy tunes.
merlot, claret, rich hickory and pine........earthy aromas
Winter is the time for darkness and moonlight... to speculate, contemplate and formulate. It may appear that life has slowed down, but under the cover of darkness, under the cover of snow lashes lurks a merging of creative souls searching for the mystic.
Nature is Imagination.
Nature is Imagination.
11 comments:
Beautiful.... we rarely get snow here, but it's wild and blustery outside and I've spent the evening by the fire watching the flames flicker and the candle wax melting into a pool whilst writing cards.
have a good week,
Katie
that is incredible! hard to imagine since i've always celebrated southern california Christmases. Maybe some year I'll venture to a place for a white holiday!
HI Katie.
There's nothing more satisfying at this time of year to be quietly sitting by a fire, surrounded by candles writing to friends and family.......I love sending cards.
Hi Julie...... thank you. I was inspired today by a friend. The words surprised me as they tumbled out.
White holidays are such fun.....getting cold from the nose down while outside enjoying the splendour and then warming up toes and bodies with a hot toddie in hand and good music in the background.
This morning I came to work early in the morning and decided to go for some breakfast. As I was walking I couldn't help but notice how the frost and snow flakes clung to the oak, elm, maple and birch trees...it was magnificant!!! I true Winter's Wonderland in all its glory!!!! As I stood waiting for the walk light to flash I felt like someone on extasy because I was completely immersed in the beauty of it all. Each perfect little snowflake full of detail landing on my jacket was awe-inspiring.
This is the part of winter I love. Today is a photographer's paradise.
Happy Holidays D!
Hi Sunny..
It is truly magnificent this morning. The trees look like old ladies with snow white hair....what is the snow clinging to? I love it.
I wrote this poem last winter on a morning like this one, and I thought I'd post it here.........hope you like it. :)
River Faeries
As the valley slumbered through the deepest night
Reveries courting romance
The Faeries gathered with giggly delight
To commence with their wintry dance
Sheened in a shivering icy glow
To frost the land as they swayed
While violin strains emanated below
Ancestral music softly played.
Faeries flitting with flurry to dust the bare trees
Haunting sounds the river does swoon
Twirling and swirling together with glee
Under the slivery shine of the moon.
Silence arrives with the pale pink sky
Shadows are kept at bay
Shimmering tipped branches reach on high
Captured by the light of the new day.
Peace and tranquility has dusted the land
Faeries are content little things
But the river in charge sends out a command
To listen to the words it does sing.
Wake up! Be aware of the stories I share
You people who live by the shore.
Fear not my friend, don’t carry despair
I bring warm tidings of comforting lore.
Enjoy your day.........
I think your poem is beautiful! I am going to copy it for my collection of favs...just like your other one.
You really should compile them D. Even if just for yourself and for your children after you. These types of gifts should never be lost. Where would we be if William Blake had decided never to show anyone his work or destroy them after writing them?
I would love for you to post your poetry more often.
i used to keep a hand drawn work of art intertwinning 'tree-beard' and that poem by Blake - lost it somewhere - shame it was an amalgamation of beauty by two legends
I'm glad you liked it Jen. I posted it on my blog waaaay back in Jan. when only a couple of people were reading my stuff. Thought it was an appropos time to dig it out of the attic.
Poetry muses rarely come calling, though I do find that my imagination peaks out more during winter months. For some reason, the trippy wordplay waits for cozy moments..... when all other interfering thoughts settle. And when the words arrive, they do with a rush of pleasure. I try to capture them as quickly as they spill out.
Winter depths....... who knows where it will lead this year?
Paul.
The union of creativity almost always leads to heightened beauty. Maybe the piece of art is just tucked away waiting to be found.
Being from New Hampshire, I remember the cold weather and snow all too well... the reason why I moved south. Being a sun goddess, I need more warmth, less layering, and longer periods of nice sunny days with no ice or snow to trudge over.
That said, I love looking at pictures of the snow fallen fields as it conjures up memories of my younger self. I once had a boyfriend in high school who took me on a snowmobile trip up into the hills. When we arrived to the top, we stopped and sat in awe of the trees covered in ice, melting in the sun. The only noise was the twinkling drops of water as they landed on the ground. It was beautiful, glorious, and affirming that no matter what, the earth has a schedule of it's own.
Lovely picture, and even lovelier poetry. You have a talent with words, my friend.
Fantastic photo. The words add to the feeling, of course. I live in Paris where we rarely see nature in this form.
ELLEN! Welcome..........I know you're a busy person right now. I love being in the woods or up on a hill in the winter. The silence and the beauty is stunning. I used to ski every weekend growing up and loved the times when I would have the hill all to myself early morning....
Rethabile.... Bienvenue. I'm glad you found my little spot in the blogworld. Paris has its own exquisite beauty. I would love to return there one day.
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