The Only Color Is In The Sky

Posted on December 30, 2011 by composerinthegarden

The grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere . . . John Muir, naturalist

It is the time of year when I begin to miss my garden. Lovely as the winter woods are, I hunger for the color of bloom and leaf. I have already marked the seed catalogs and have started a spreadsheet of possible purchases, dreaming of the garden season to come. As a way of reminding myself that spring will follow the long winter months, I will soon begin each day watching one of my large collection of garden videos. But early this morning, after many dark gloomy days, I saw the sun rising through the clouds. I grabbed my camera and the dog and went hunting the only color in nature at this time of year – in the sky.

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I’m versatile! Two blogging friends, poet AZ/catcherofstars at Verse Not Prose and photographer Kerry at Lightscapes Nature Photography, have honored me with another award, the Versatile Blogger Award. Since I am still deep in composing and recording this week, I will post about this award on Sunday, the first day of the new year. It seems an appropriate way to begin a new leaf. In the meantime, I wish everyone a safe and happy New Year’s Eve celebration!

A Song for the Winter Solstice

Posted on December 16, 2011 by composerinthegarden

Winter, an artist’s sketch in charcoal, so clearly etched against a cloud filled sky. . .

In celebration of the moment when the earth turns on its axis back to the light of the sun. This year, in the northern hemisphere, the winter solstice occurs on December 22. Time and Date offers a clear explanation of the solstice as well as explores the customs and traditions around it. To see a beautiful collection of “brown and gray and sometimes white” nature photography, explore Robin’s post on frosted Queen Ann’s Lace in Life in the Bogs.

“Winter” was one of those songs written in a moment, in a winter where snow alternated with grey skies and brown earth. This recording is a “first take” for both the piano and vocal. The visuals are all from my garden. Enjoy!

All music making is collaborative in nature. A special thanks to Barbara Nissman for contributing her master’s touch on the piano to this song and Mike Tomaro for his haunting soprano sax improvisations. And as always, to my gifted husband Bill Purse, who generously shares his skills as audio engineer and producer in my artistic endeavors.

Winter, snow falling down
Winter, the world is gray and brown, gray and brown and sometimes white
for a night and a day, then all is gray

Autumn in leaves of gold
Springtime, a thousand shades of green unfold to summer
with its joyous Joseph’s Coat of colors, endless colors, endless colors . . .

Winter, an artist’s sketch in charcoal
so clearly etched against a cloud filled sky
Subtle and dark, lovely and stark in gentle tones of gray
and brown and sometimes white
for a night and a day, then all turns gray
Winter today

Soft clouds, soft snow, soft browns, whites and grays
Winter today

Winter Sunrise

Posted on December 4, 2011 by composerinthegarden

How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains! naturalist John Muir

One perk of walking the dog in the morning is seeing the sun rise. Not much color on the ground, but the sky was glorious today. You can see it change over a period of about 20 minutes. Enjoy!

Sunrise

Sunrise 3

Sunrise

Sun’s Up!

Looking up

Posted on November 18, 2011 by composerinthegarden

Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air, and feather canyons everywhere, I’ve looked at clouds that way. Joni Mitchell, “Both Sides Now”

I am short of words this week but filled with images of clouds. I thought I would try the new photo carousel in WP. Enjoy.