Hiatus

Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!
And I would that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

O well for the fisherman’s boy,
That he shouts with his sister at play!
O well for the sailor lad,
That he sings in his boat on the bay!

And the stately ships go on
To their haven under the hill;
But O for the touch of a vanish’d hand,
And the sound of a voice that is still!

Break, break, break,
At the foot of thy crags, O Sea!
But the tender grace of a day that is dead
Will never come back to me.

~ Alfred, Lord Tennyson

It is with heavy heart I announce the temporary yet indefinite suspension
of my blogging activities. I have come to this decision after long and careful consideration of several factors mostly related to my health.
I extend my deepest gratitude to all who have faithfully followed
my journey here over the past year. The fact that any of you
are interested in what I have to say boggles my mind just a bit.

When will I be back? Honestly, I do not know. This site will not just suddenly disappear. Comments will continue to be moderated by me or by an assistant. You may see some changes happening as some of the tags, categories,
pages or posts are retooled, time and health permitting.

As I seek renewed health, peace and direction in my life, I hope you will continue to visit from time to time and explore the archives.
Don’t be surprised if, during my hiatus, I make the occasional wordless post
showcasing some new photograph of bird, cat, orchid, rose…

À bientôt.

False Indigo, Baptisia australis, May 19, 2009

Secret Dove

And there my little doves did sit
With feathers softly brown
And glittering eyes that showed their right
To general Nature’s deep delight.

~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

This tree was in an irresistable state of perfection yesterday.
I swear my camera would have taken the picture all by itself
if I hadn’t pushed the button. Imagine my surprise
as I looked at the photograph on my pc monitor
and found the bird I hadn’t known was there.

A Sunday Scented with Hyacinths

This post is part of the Sunday Stroll Invitation Series

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If of thy mortal goods thou art bereft,
And from thy slender store two loaves alone to thee are left,
Sell one, and with the dole
Buy hyacinths to feed thy soul.

~ Moslih Eddin Saadi
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A stray on the lawn

Softest Pink

A bee heads in…

…and banks right for landing

“Om nom nom nom”

~
The fragrance and the colors are mind-boggling!
~

Unexpected Love Scene On The Lawn

I stumbled across something
as I made my way through the flowers yesterday afternoon…

I was thoroughly enjoying this patch of azure chinodoxas…

…marvelling over blossoms that have lasted for a month…

…getting weak in the knees as I lost myself in beautiful sapphire shades of blue…

…and racking my brain
as I tried to remember the name of these delightful red blooms…

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…When, suddenly, I saw it happening
right there in front of my eyes…
Shocking, really!

See how he is leaning right into her!
I felt strangely embarrassed, yet I could not look away

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I couldn’t stop myself from going out to look again early this morning,
but alas, he was already gone
– simply vanished –
and now she lies there wilted, spent and inconsolably alone.

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Splendour in the Grass

What though the radiance
which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass,
of glory in the flower,
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
In the faith that looks through death,
In years that bring the philosophic mind.

~ William Wordsworth
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Tabbie Hears a Who!

…or at least I thought I saw one!
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Today you are You, that is truer than true.
There is no one alive who is Youer than You.
~ Dr. Seuss

Moonlight in the Garden

Even those who are pure of heart
and say their prayers at night
can become a wolf when the wolfsbane blooms
and the autumn moon is bright
~ Gypsy poem

Dreary

Out of damp and gloomy days, out of solitude, out of loveless words
directed at us, conclusions grow up in us like fungus: one morning they are there, we know not how, and they gaze upon us, morose and gray. Woe to the thinker who is not the gardener but only the soil of the plants that grow in him.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Here are Winkin’ Blinkin’ and Nod revisited. I know you’ve seen them before, but they are a constant part of my life as they loom overhead, seemingly eternal.

Splash

Sit in reverie, and watch the changing color
of the waves that break upon the idle seashore of the mind
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow