Tag: Poetics of Place
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Midwinter Mending
Sometimes it seems words can get in the way of our will and our wants. Often even. Sometimes words blur or over-focus or misrepresent… But they’re what we’ve got. And so it is that my morning words today, “Midwinter Mending”, endeavor to broadcast my will and want without blurring or over-focusing or misrepresenting. Allow, if…
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Keuhlen Family at the Sherwood Inn, August 1951
One of the great joys in owning Rosslyn these last 15 years (hard to believe it’s been a decade and a half since we purchased our Essex home from Elizabeth and George McNulty!) has been discovering the memorabilia of those who’ve come before us. So many Rosslyn memories, stories, and artifacts. Today I’d like to introduce…
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Wavy Window Glass
I find something whimsical and intriguing about looking through o-o-old windows. Antique panes of glass. Wavy window glass that subtly distorts and dream-ifies the view. Another more Apollonian observer might consider this riffled reality discomfiting, unsettling. But wonder wells within me when grandfatherly glass slumps and swirls. It’s like a watercolor. An impressionist painting. A mirage. It…
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Hazy Days Haiku
I’d planned on getting the drone up in the air for some aerial photography of the waterfront and deck areas (where we’re planning some maintenance projects). As luck would have it the morning was misty. No, more like pea soup. So I waited. And waited. It burned off a little, but finally I realized it…
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Mulberry Meditation
There is much to admire in a mulberry tree.The handsome habit and height. The luxurious leaves. The shady canopy.The concentrated blackberry-esque burst of inky sweetness. While you may have a fuzzy notion about mulberry wine,…
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Walking Stick Haiku I
A couple of weeks ago I shared another walking stick photograph on Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter with this accompanying haiku. A walking stick and miniature companion gossip in the shade. My walking stick haiku makes more sense if you actually look closely at the photograph. https://www.instagram.com/p/CDogBYJpIs8/ Can you discern the walking stick’s miniature companion? Is…
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Rainbow Resonance
Perhaps a purist will scoff, a musicologist for example, when I hitch a rainbow (a double rainbow) to resonance. But I’ll claim poetic license long enough to sneak past the physics police or whoever else patrols these matters. Rainbow resonance isn’t just a pleasantly alliterative title for this post. It’s an observation. Rainbows — witnessed…