Category Archives: Nature

A March moment

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Our life is March weather, savage and serene in one hour. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Even as I prepare a series of posts about the evolution of the garden, I am drawn into the drama of March weather. This past weekend was gloriously warm and sunny, full of blue skies and singing birds.

The light through last year’s hydrangea blossoms was magical  and the colorful sunset above the bare trees inspiring. But soon the wild winds of March blew in from the west, bending and creaking the bare trees. A day later, the snow began to fall, enormous fluffy flakes that coated everything in a magical layer of white. Never mind that the winter had already expressed itself in snow and ice many times, the effect was charming and worthy of a short video.

The snow melted by mid-afternoon, leaving the spring garden tasks visible once again, awaiting my pruner and loppers and shovel. And so March goes, an unpredictable yet compelling time of the year, promising so much for the months to come.

March is the month of expectation, the things we do not know.~ Emily Dickinson

All photos, video and text ©2022 by Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved, except where noted.

Bejeweled

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It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it. ~John Burroughs

I have become reacquainted with my garden this winter. Several times a day, Pixie and I wander out into the snow and ice – she romps in the snow as I stand and study the details of the garden in a new way.

I have no real love of winter – I find it cold, uncomfortable, and devoid of color – and yet I can always find beauty when I take the time to look.
One of my favorite fairy tales is the story of the twelve dancing princesses. They would escape their room each night, traveling through forests of gold, of silver, and of glass, to dance with their twelve princes. Last week’s ice storm brought total quiet to our neighborhood – no one stirred on the dangerous roads and everyone stayed inside, safe and warm. Yet outside stood the forest of glass, a fairy tale vision of frozen crystals coating each branch, each leaf, each faded blossom. (click on any photo to see the full-size image)

A brief snowfall coated the branches, allowing the ice and snow to sparkle through the woods and the garden, nature bejeweled and magical.

Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity; so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand. ~Henry David Thoreau

Thanks to my intrepid lively Pixie, I left my warm fireplace to venture into the cold crystal beauty of the garden, and for that I am ever grateful. Each moment in the glass forest and garden felt magical, an echo of fairy tale romance. May each of you, my friends, wear out your dancing shoes as you follow an adventure into nature’s beauty, perhaps in your own backyard.

 . . . what you look out on is not the snow of Narnia but the snow of home, which is no less shimmering and white as it falls. The earth is covered with it, and it is falling still in silence so deep that you can hear its silence. ~Frederick Buechner

All photos and text ©2022 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved, except as noted.

Go to the winter woods

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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 rose arch
Hydrangea blossoms

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.

Pixie’s pretty profile
Poodle in the garden

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

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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