Nature’s Sarabande

Sarabande – A Baroque dance that is said to have come from the Saracens. It is in triple meter, and characteristically the second note of the measure is lengthened, giving the dance a stately, majestic flavor. ~ Artopium

 

Rudbeckia trilobaThe slow stately dance of summer moving into autumn has begun. Days are growing shorter and nights are growing cooler. Where ten new flowers opened in giddy excess each day in June and July, perhaps one begins flowering every few days in August and September. Change is slow but inexorable, a measured graceful prelude to the fiery finale of autumn’s peak. The soft pinks and lavenders of tall phlox keep the butterflies hovering in their midst; the shocking gold and black of Rudbeckias sing in a harmony of color to the fuzzy bees that crowd around them for late season sustenance. Cooler evenings have triggered rose bloom in every color from magenta to pink to apricot – blue Ageratum and Salvias play a cool counterpoint to the warm tones of rose buds and blossoms as they shift in the slanted sun rays to gather the light. Huge trusses of cream colored hydrangeas hang over the garden paths, richly scented and alive with the bumbling movement of pollinators drunk on their sweet largesse. Even as some plants begin to crumble and fall toward dormancy, others rise up with fresh foliage and flowers for a brief coda of glory before the end of the season.

The August GardenUnderneath the visual feast lies the ostinato drone of cicadas and the antiphonal call of tree frogs at night. A few days ago, after a long day in the hot and noisy city, I returned home and stepped outside into the garden – I suddenly felt as if I were Alice stepping through the looking glass. Heat that was oppressive in the city was merely a warm envelope of air in the garden and the early evening chorus of insects and frogs created a symphonic hall of pulsing sound that replaced the chaotic screech and scratch of traffic and construction. I stood entranced for a moment, watching the bats fly overhead in search of mosquitoes. I looked down to see the twinkle of fireflies rising from the garden floor, in search of a mate to commence the pas de deux of partnership. I had not just stepped into a garden, I had stepped into a magical world, a space where I was privileged to see and hear and smell the intoxication of nature in late summer, performing her multi-dimensional dance of life. Humbled and at peace, I began a slow sarabande through the garden.

But I’m not dancing alone . . . I’m dancing with the forest, dancing with the moon. Kenge, The Forest People (Turnbull)

Listen to Handel’s famous sarabande (trigger the video below) as you view a few garden photos from the August garden. Click on any image to start the show and join me in the “stately, majestic” dance. (All photos ©2014 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved)

And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music. ~ Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

“Everything in the universe has rhythm. Everything dances.” ~Maya Angelou

For a unique perspective on solo dance and the current phenomenon of recording and sharing one’s dance experience, visit Richard Coyne’s post on Mood and Movement (and dance).

 

Golden Days Ahead

One golden day redeems a weary year. ~Celia Thaxter

Weeping cherry leavesIt’s not often that turning the calendar page corresponds to a change in the garden. This August, the page and the garden turned in sync. Mild days and cool nights have ushered in a subtle change and earth’s spin towards the equinox has pulled the sun lower in the sky. Most of the July bloomers like daylilies have finished their show and the bloom palette has shifted to golden Rudbeckias and cherry red Echinaceas. Bees and butterflies abound, greedy for the late summer bounty, and the cicadas and tree frogs have begun their August serenade. In anticipation of autumn, the weeping cherry in the center of the garden has begun to turn into a golden fountain of foliage – perhaps it is just trying to compete with the golden flowers circling around it. In another month or two, the woods surrounding the garden will glow in autumn colors. For now, though, there is just a hint of the golden days to come.

Enjoy a few scenes from the garden as it shifts to gold, a fitting celebration of my 100th blog post as Composer in the Garden. (Click on any photo to begin the slideshow. All photos ©2014 Lynn Emberg Purse, All Rights Reserved)

The golden age is before us, not behind us. ~Shakespeare

For a different kind of gold in the garden, visit Ogee’s wonderful blog Gardens for Goldens.