Go to the winter woods

Where the forest murmurs there is music: ancient, everlasting. Go to the winter woods: listen there, look, watch . . . ~Fiona Macleod, Where the Forest Murmurs

Winter has truly arrived, with frequent snowfall and frigid temperatures. The browns and grays of the garden and woods have been transformed into visions of crystal magic.

There is nothing in the world more beautiful than the forest clothed to its very hollows in snow. That is a loveliness to which surely none can be insensitive. ~Fiona Macleod

The familiar scenes of the garden are transformed, its bones and structure revealed as patterns and shapes. (click on any photo to see the larger view)

The woods and garden are visually connected by white instead of green.

The stone steps that lead to the lower garden are now just a suggestion of shape while the seedheads of plants still stand above the snow to nourish the birds.

Cherry tree

There’s just something beautiful about walking on snow that nobody else has walked on. It makes you believe you’re special. ~Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I’m Home

The turquoise pot containing a blue fescue looks like an odd cactus, a rare spot of color in the winter landscape.

After months of mourning and tears from losing Angel, we decided it was time to add some puppy joy to our lives. We were lucky to bring home a 6 month old standard poodle puppy last week – her name is Pixie – “a cheerful, mischievous, vivacious female spirit” – a name which she lives up to very well.

She loves the snow and has created her own agility courses through it – she is quite the athlete and has free reign of the fenced-in garden and woods.

She is so fast that I’ve wondered more than once if she can actually teleport herself when I turn my head away for a few seconds and she is suddenly next to me!

(A special thanks to my niece Tracey for requesting that I add my music to this video)

It is good to snuggle up to a sweet creature and to watch her puppy antics . . . it is good to laugh again.

If you are experiencing snow and ice, I wish you warmth and safety amidst the beauty of winter; if you are in the midst of summer in the Southern Hemisphere, I wish you the joy of color and beauty filling your world.

Winter came down to our home one night
Quietly pirouetting in on silvery-toed slippers of snow,
And we, we were children once again. ~Bill Morgan Jr.

How beautiful the leaves

How beautiful the leaves grow old. How full of light and color are their last days. ~John Burroughs

The weeping cherry glows as the last bit of gold in the lower garden, an umbrella of light in the late autumn garden.

The mild fall weather has delayed leaf fall and a few days have been warm enough to dine outside. Bill and I ate lunch at an outdoor restaurant in our local park; a mild sunny day filled the patio with diners in November.  The stillness and beauty of the lake we viewed from our table stayed with us for days.

The garden is a place of constant change. Two weeks ago, the trees were still loaded with leaves 

and the skies were blue.

What was golden

became bronze

and finally fell to the earth.

Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they’re falling like they’re falling in love with the ground. ~Andrea Gibson

The last burst of color of autumn is at the entrance to our driveway, where the kousa dogwood and azalea leaves are having a multicolored moment.

I want to send a special thanks to all of you who read and commented on my last post about our beautiful Angel – your words meant so much and helped in the healing process. One of our longtime friends sent us a sketch he created of one of Angel’s photos; we were surprised and thrilled and he promised to send an oil painting. Gus was the best man at our wedding and our drummer when Bill and I were performing many years ago in Pittsburgh as Sundance (Gus is looking over my shoulder). He retired and moved to Florida a few years ago with his wife Shirley, where he has returned to drawing and painting – his work is regularly shown at a local gallery. We were deeply touched when this beautiful painting of our girl arrived this week – Gus caught the essence of her beauty and expression and it was one more gift of friendship that is healing our hearts.

For those of you who celebrate the coming American Thanksgiving holiday, I wish you a warm and loving holiday and a joyous autumn to all.

Go, sit upon the lofty hill,
And turn your eyes around,
Where waving woods and waters wild
Do hymn an autumn sound.
The summer sun is faint on them—
The summer flowers depart—
Sit still— as all transform’d to stone,
Except your musing heart. ~Elizabeth Barrett Browning, The Autumn

 

All images and text ©2021 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved except where noted. Painting of Angel Eyes by © 2021 Gus DiPerna All Rights Reserved

New beginnings

Celebrate endings—for they precede new beginnings. ~Jonathan Lockwood Huie

This week, and the last few months, have been about endings and beginnings. I am nearing the end of the mixing and mastering of my Watershed CD , a three year effort. We hope to send it for duplication in a week, thanks to the engineering wizardry of my husband/sound engineer Bill. We spent the last half of the spring semester teaching from home because of COVID restrictions and realized how much we liked being home all of the time. I spent hours at the piano, sketching new ideas while looking into the green woods.

piano

Angel was delighted to have us home 24/7; we snuggle a lot on the sofa.

The garden got some extra attention too – early summer was beautiful, in spite of  the late hard frosts.

Heat and drought were hard on the garden in June and July; although some plants bloomed, the flowers were short lived. It rained last night, with loud thunderstorms and heavy downpours – this morning the trees and plants are green and glowing and the garden looks lush again. gardenafterrain

We liked being at home so much these past several months that when the chance came to retire earlier than expected, we both took it.  Bill and I are now officially retired from our teaching jobs of 30+ years. We have been celebrating with cake, cake

with wine,

pianowine

and with mornings on the deck complete with guitar music. billgtr copy

All the things I love the most are here – the sound of the wind in the trees, the dance of a hummingbird at the flowers, the ebb and flow of the seasons, my piano, a house full of books and of course my husband and Angel. I am leaving a large part of my life behind with no regrets – it was a good ending – and now I am ready to begin the third act. I am still a composer, a gardener, a writer, a photographer – but now I have time to reflect, to explore, and to be more present on this page.

The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life. ~ Steve Jobs

whiteoak

I hope that you are all well in these most difficult times and that you are able to stay safe, full of hope and surrounded by love.

For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice.
And to make an end is to make a beginning. ~T.S. Eliot, Little Gidding

Serenity in the garden

We are not going to change the whole world, but we can change ourselves and feel free as birds. We can be serene even in the midst of calamities and, by our serenity, make others more tranquil. Serenity is contagious. ~Sri S. Satchidananda

The garden is waking up and I am a frequent visitor. When I cannot bear another word or warning of the world’s calamities, I step outside. A month ago, the world was white with snow. FebSnowgate

Then the March winds came and turned the sky blue. marchskies

The robins and a pair of mourning doves are regular visitors to the birdbath and their songs ring out in a quiet world that has begun to bloom. The snowdrops appeared first, tiny clusters of white that nodded in the early spring sun and shrugged off the snow. The Tommy crocus (Crocus tommisinianus) appeared soon after, to the delight of a few early insects.

Now the hellebores are stealing the show. Some are named varieties with strong colors and sometimes doubled in form. (click any photo in the mosaic to see a full size image)

Others are chance seedlings of a few plants gifted to me by a friend many years ago. They seem to have crossed with the fancy ones and made some pretty color combinations.  A few even lift their faces up to the spring sun.

Forsythia and Cornus mas (Cornelian cherry) are bearing their cheery yellow flowers while a few daffodils come into bloom.

I leave behind worry each time I step into the garden and embrace the serenity that I find there. May you find inspiration in the beauty around you and dream beautiful dreams.

My garden of flowers is also my garden of thoughts and dreams. The thoughts grow as freely as the flowers, and the dreams are as beautiful. ~Abram L. Urban

All photos and text ©2020 Lynn Emberg Purse, except where noted