Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, March 30, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
WHEN the pine tosses its cones
To the song of its waterfall tones,
Who speeds to the woodland walks?
To birds and trees who talks?
Cæsar of his leafy Rome,
There the poet is at home.
He goes to the river-side,
Not hook nor line hath he;
He stands in the meadows wide,
Nor gun nor scythe to see.
Sure some god his eye enchants:
What he knows nobody wants.
In the wood he travels glad,
Without better fortune had,
Melancholy without bad.
Knowledge this man prizes best
Seems fantastic to the rest:
Pondering shadows, colors, clouds,
Grass-buds and caterpillar-shrouds,
Boughs on which the wild bees settle,
Tints that spot the violet’s petal
Why Nature loves the number five,
And why the star-form she repeats:
Lover of all things alive,
Wonderer at all he meets,
Wonderer chiefly at himself,
Who can tell him what he is?
Or how meet in human elf
Coming and past eternities?
Ralph Waldo Emerson/Woodnotes
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Monday, March 26, 2012
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Friday, March 23, 2012
They say that, afar in the land of the west,
Where the bright golden sun sinks in glory to rest,
Mid ferns where the hunter ne’er ventured to tread,
A fair lake unruffled and sparkling is spread;
Where, lost in his course, the rapt Indian discovers,
In distance seen dimly, the green Isle of Lovers.
There verdure fades never; immortal in bloom,
Soft waves the magnolia its groves of perfume;
And low bends the branch with rich fruitage depressed,
All glowing like gems in the crowns of the east;
There the bright eye of nature in mild glory hovers;
’T is the land of the sunbeam,—the green Isle of Lovers!
The Green Isle of Lovers---Robert Charles Sands
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
But I wonder how long the haven will last. Water levels are at mid summer levels. We didn't get much snow and the spring has been wonderfully sunny and hot. Pools in the marsh are already drying up even as the frogs are mating and laying eggs.
I fear that this year will be a crash year for the frogs.
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
This bunch of moss plants is just that; a bunch of tiny plants all growing close together. And on closer inspection you can see the tiny plants are all individual:
Monday, March 19, 2012
Saturday, March 17, 2012
I wandered lonely as a Cloud
That floats on high o'er Vales and Hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of dancing Daffodils;
Along the Lake, beneath the trees,
Ten thousand dancing in the breeze.
The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: --
A poet could not but be gay
In such a laughing company:
I gazed—and gazed—but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:
For oft when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude,
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the Daffodils.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Thursday, March 15, 2012
THE crooked paths go every way
Upon the hill—they wind about
Through the heather in and out
Of the quiet sunniness.
And there the goats, day after day,
Stray in sunny quietness,
Cropping here and cropping there,
As they pause and turn and pass,
Now a bit of heather spray,
Now a mouthful of the grass.
In the deeper sunniness,
In the place where nothing stirs,
Quietly in quietness,
In the quiet of the furze,
For a time they come and lie
Staring on the roving sky...
James Stephens---The Goat Path
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
The frogs are singing to find a sweetheart and are difficult to see before dark but can be heard just about anywhere in this region of Indiana.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
I have, however, taken pictures all winter long of robins around puddles, on newly defrosted ground, rummaging through snow for bugs and grubs.
But when the little birds start bob, bob, bobbin' along...well that has got to be a sure sign of spring.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Friday, March 9, 2012
The fieldis ouerflowis
With gowans that growis,
Quhair lilies like low is
As red as the rone.
The turtle that true is,
With notes that renewis,
Her pairty pursuis:
The nicht is neir gone.
Alexander Montgomerie The Night is Near Gone
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
The other critter in the photo is a diving beetle. This beetle will swim up to the surface every now and then---stick its rear above the water line and grab a bubble of air to carry with it as it hunts below the surface. The beetles are often active all winter long.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Friday, March 2, 2012
Instead of the sound of the wind through the sedges, grass, and cattails, the sounds of the crane's croaking calls and the beat of hundreds of wings brought the marsh to life.
Thursday, March 1, 2012
WORSCHIPPE ye that loveris bene this May,
For of your blisse the Kalendis are begonne,
And sing with us, Away, Winter, away!
Cum, Somer, cum, the suete sesoùn and sonne!
Awake for schame! that have your hevynnis wonne,
And amorously lift up your hedis all,
Thank Lufe that list you to his merci call!
Spring Song of the Birds---King James I of Scotland