Category Archives: nature

A sudden whirl of green.

nature, poetry, trees, , ,

I don’t think I’ve ever experienced such a dramatic springtime as here in Wisconsin, the sort of place where winter covers everything with snow, and the plants have to do their thing fast once the warm winds begin to blow.

These small flowering trees seem to have calculated how many buds and flower petals can possibly be squeezed out of their sap — then they produce a few hundred more for good measure.

A day or two later, the leaves are pushing the blossoms aside, saying, “Our turn! Gotta hurry!”

DECIDUOUS SPRING

Now, now the world
All gabbles joy like geese, for
An idiot glory the sky
bangs. Look!
All leaves are new, are
Now, are
Bangles dangling and
Spangling, in sudden air
Wangling, then
Hanging quiet, bright.

The world comes back, and again
Is gabbling, and yes,
Remarkably worse, for
The world is a whirl of
Green mirrors gone wild with
Deceit, and the world
Whirls green on a string, then
The leaves go quiet, wink
From their own shade, secretly.

Keep still, just a moment, leaves.

There is something I am trying to remember.

~ Robert Penn Warren

Each morning the goslings by the lake appear to have doubled in size. Clouds race across the deep blue sky, darken and thicken, and pour down rain. The anemone buds droop, the sun blazes out, and the white flowers open gladly to take in the rays.

Snowdrop anemones in Pearl’s garden.

Pearl and I took the dogs to the dog park where they had a fine romp, and I admired more trees and flowers.

Virginia Bluebells

Earlier this week we drove to Sheboygan for dinner, and all along the road I got to see lots of handsome farms with beautiful silos, surrounded by bright green fields. On the way home I was quite taken with some stripey clouds.

Everyone and everything is gabbling joy.

Are the trees born again?

nature, poetry, trees,

TREES

by Philip Larkin

The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.

Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.

Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.

-Philip Larkin

Beyond lullabies: the mother’s music.

nature, quotes, senses, , , , , , , ,

Marianne Stokes, Mother and Child at Menguszfalva

“After birth, the child further develops this primal resonance. This doesn’t happen haphazardly. The child achieves a kind of symbiosis with the mother through its creative imitations of her sounds and facial expressions; in this way, it will feel what she feels. As it takes on its mother’s happy expression, it also feels her joy; if it takes on her sad expression, it shares in her unhappiness.

“Something similar applies to the exchange of sounds: In the clinking and clanging of the mother’s language trembles the well and woe of her being, and the child who imitates that language resonates with it on the same psychological wavelength. This early resonance between child and its (social) environment leads to a unique phenomenon: The young child’s body gets ‘loaded’ with a series of vibrations and tensions that become embedded in the deepest and finest fibers of its body. They form a kind of ‘body memory’ that not only programs the function of the musculature, glands, nerves, and organs, but also predisposes the child to certain psychological conditions, or disorders.

“The human body is, in the most literal sense, a stringed instrument. The muscles that span the skeleton, and the body’s other fibers, are put on a certain tension in early childhood through imitative language exchanges. This tension determines with which (social) phenomena one will resonate; it determines the frequencies to which one will be sensitive in later life. That’s why certain people and certain events can literally strike a chord; they touch the body and, as such, touch the soul. It is for this reason that the voice can make the body ill. Or, conversely, heal it. That is why the voice is of vital importance, especially at an early age. Lack of a voice is fatal to the young child.”

–Mattias Desmet

Dmitri Petrovs

That sweet monotony.

love, nature, quotes, , , ,

“We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it, if it were not the earth where the same flowers come up again every spring that we used to gather with our tiny fingers as we sat lisping to ourselves on the grass, the same hips and haws on the autumn hedgerows, the same redbreasts that we used to call ‘God’s birds’ because they did no harm to the precious crops. What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known and loved because it is known?”

-George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss

Henri Baptiste Lebasque, Le Repos sous les arbres