The beauty around us

Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light. ~Mary Oliver

After a seven week-long drought, four days of slow steady rain arrived exactly on the September equinox. The constant rain healed the deep cracks of dried earth and gradually refreshed and revived the trees, plants, and wildlife. Constant morning fog was catnip to this photographer.

The sweet smell of dry earth refreshed by rain, known as petrichor, filled my senses for days. The woodland path held that scent the longest, the first place Pixie and I explore each morning.

The ferns and sedges came back to life quickly, as green as if it were spring again.

The circle garden was showing some tattered damage from the weather extremes, but somehow looked gloriously lush in the fog.

I was struck by the layers and textures in this photo, so I decided to create a black and white version.

In some ways, I like this one better, as it emphasizes the layers and depth as well as the range from light to dark in this part of the garden. What do you think?

In contrast, the copper corner was a riot of color that required the full spectrum treatment.

Everywhere I walked, everywhere I looked, I was surrounded by notes of beauty. I began to notice the smallest lovely detail and the largest sweep of color and texture. I was walking through a liminal moment in time, the earth balanced between a change in seasons while the fog seemed to stretch and elongate that moment in an otherworldly fashion.

I tried to capture those moments of beauty in the garden with this video, hosted by the inimitable Miss Pixie.

And finally, I was editing photos for this post on my back deck when I suddenly realized that the late afternoon light had changed to a rosy glow. I looked up from the laptop and saw glimpses of a vibrant sunset through the trees. Entranced, I spent the next half hour simply watching the sunset deepen and finally fade. I’m not adept at taking sunrise or sunset photos but my friend Mary Pegher is. With her permission, I’m including one of her stunning images of sunrise over a foggy lake in our nearby county park. Oddly enough, I had asked Mary if I could include her photo in this post a day before I experienced that beautiful sunset. Synchronicity lives. Photo credit: ©Mary Pegher 2025 Used with permission.

I hope you are having a marvelous change of seasons wherever you live and that you find yourself surrounded by moments of beauty in the coming days.

All text and images ©Lynn Purse 2025, All Rights Reserved except where noted,

 

The green deep woods

It has been a year for green so far – weekly wild storms have brought incessant rain, turning the garden and woods lush and green.
Earlier this spring, we were having a tree trimmed away from the roof of the house when the arborists found that it was completely hollow – “like a straw” they said – and needed to come down. They did a magnificent job of bringing down the trunk and refitting it together so that I could make it a garden feature as part of the new woodland walk.

They leveled the stump, which was ready-filled with soft compost, and I used it as a fern planter.

The smaller branches were chipped and then used to line the path. Although the trunk landed where the mayapples grow, they found their way around it. You can see the hollow where the rain came in and disintegrated the inside of the tree over time.

I’ve continued filling the new beds along then fence with plants native to our area and it is beginning to resemble a garden. Now the woodland walk is a lush green place for Pixie and I to wander each morning, rain or shine.

Come to the woods, for here is rest. There is no repose like that of the green deep woods. ~John Muir

Here’s the story of the woodland walk in video as a part of the Garden Dreams series that I’m sharing with 4 other collaborators.

Days of rain alternating with very hot sunny days spurred plant growth and spawned violent thunderstorms and tornados more typical of July than May. Last weekend, after days of rain and very warm weather, everything changed. The temperatures cooled and the rain turned to mist. I filmed the mist outside the door that night and the next day I rose before dawn to film what I was sure would be fog. Here’s a short film of that magical misty morning in the garden.

I hope you enjoyed walking through my garden with me; I wish you beautiful days now and to come.