All posts by laurahinnj
18
Gack!! Kumquats… I won’t soon be adding these to a list of favorites, but the trying was fun.
#18 in my 38 by 39.
First beauty
“April can be lovely, spangled with bloom and the newest of young leaves. It can be, and usually is, melodied with the voice of song sparrow and robin, redwing and oriole. And the call of the Spring peeper is the very voice of April. But April can also be cold rain, raw wind and, on occasion, snow. The cruelest aspect of April’s tantrums, however, lies in the way it sometimes frosts our hopes and expectations. We want to believe in that myth of gentle April. We want May in April. We are tired of Winter’s cold leftovers. Given a taste of Spring in April, we want a full meal of it.” –Hal Borland
Today was a lovely taste of Spring on an early April day.
The song of the white throated sparrow
The crystal clear notes
of a white throated sparrow
floated down through the trees today.
And then a mile further up the trail, another.
The first songs to come my way
in the spring forest.
I like winter
when white covers the earth.
I like summer
when the woods are green and warm.
But I love the wild forest
when things are changing.
Now, the first week of spring.
Still, some patches of snow linger
in the shade under the big trees.
The air warms then cools then warms
in the bright sun.
Trees with swollen buds, waiting.
The first birds are back.
Their songs celebrate what is
about to come.
We humans know four seasons.
I wonder how many seasons
the inhabitants of these woods know.
Maybe fifty-two.
Maybe each week is a new season
for those who go about their routine
deep in the woods.
The long, hard winter is over.
New life will soon fill these woods.
A flood of green, bird song, wildflowers.
And the white throated sparrow
sings its song anticipating
the change to come
–Rodrick W. MacIver in this week’s Pause for Beauty
If you visit Heron Dance in the links on my sidebar, you can sign up for *A Pause for Beauty* which is a weekly email newsletter featuring paintings, poetry, and reflections. Check it out!
Carousel
The Carousel at Asbury Park
Today was daffodil day in this part of NJ… and the forsythia has plans.
Spring almost!
An interesting day in the field with clients… I saw the spoon man (how many of you can say you know someone who collects wooden spoons?!?), plus I got a kiss on the cheek from the sweetest little old Italian lady.
😉
(There are rare days when I think I have the best job in the whole-wide world.)
Zen thoughts with bunnies
The master in the art of livingMakes little distinction between his work and his play,
His labor and his leisure,
His mind and his body,
His education and his recreation,
His love and his religion.
He hardly knows which is which.
He simply persues his vision of excellence in whatever he does,
Leaving others to decide whether he is working or playing.
To him he is always doing both.
–Zen Buddhist Text
Things unseen
I’ve no idea how far I walked in the fog today, but long enough that by the time I was back at the parking lot my hair fell wet in ringlets, sticky with salt. The fog had obliterated any landmarks along the beach and it was only my vague sense that hours had passed that caused me to turn back. This was no sunny, invigorating winter beach; it felt neither wide nor expansive. There was no winking promise of spring in the air, either. White-bellied gulls appeared out of the nothingness ahead and the only sound was that of the waves churning the sand.
The edges of things: the shoreline and the horizon were all so soft with the fog that my camera mostly refused to focus. It was pleasant to imagine nothing beyond the couple hundred feet I was able to see ahead of me. Out of the salty haze I finally spotted what I’d come looking for; back for a week or two, a lone piping plover fed along the wrack line at the very limits of my imagination. The 
harder I tried to see it, the faster it ran and blended into nothingness.
Poof! Gone.
A couple hundred steps ahead and I’d spot it again for an instant, this time running crosswise to me in the dry sand, blending into a driftwood and clam shell background. In and out of my awareness, I think it must have accompanied me quite far, just out of clear view, a bit of fog drifted sand on still winter-black legs. These birds are hard to spot on a clear day even when they’re running; their markings blend so expertly with drift sticks and sand. I like to meet them for the year on this type of day, for whatever reason, when the hot sun and crowds of a June day seem an impossibility.
Stumped (again)
I need a name… can anyone help? 
Line 73a
Amount of line 72 you want refunded to you.
Are they kidding???
😉
Nevermind… I don’t want that money back. You just keep it.
Anything about this yearly ritual that makes you howl with laughter?
Tuesday reflected
Early spring at the boardwalk, Asbury Park
It was vaguely above freezing today so I wandered to the boardwalk to see what I could see and found this, much to my delight! Another reflection shot; this one from the window of an art gallery that’s new to the boardwalk. It’s a crazy juxtaposition, I know, but the ocean and boardwalk benches (and a trash can!) are there reflected among a photo montage of some familiar icons… the casino, the carousel and the convention center where Bruce has been practising the last couple nights.