THE ESSENCE OF SPRING

Daffodils-1

 

 

 

 

 

The nocturnal moon shines down,     

upon the newborn leaves;

hoarfrost is lurking in the shadows,

like a malingering band of thieves.

 

The lunar orb can only watch,

as they plan their evil spells;

while unsuspecting buds are coaxed,

from their protective shells.

 

Life is only a moment away,

but death is just as near;

the tiny foliage yearns to grow,

naïve to any fear.

 

Aurora peeks over the horizon,

frustrated rime is chased away;

it will have to wait till harvest moon,

genesis has seized the day.

Dandilion

 

 

 

 

 

The Fire in the Sky Keeps on Burning (sunset)

  
 Racing down the street
The setting sun tonight was glorious. Unfortunately I did not catch the fullest of it, but what I did get was beautiful. The first photo below, to the left, was taken from our yard. We live on the east side of a hill so we decided it wasn’t the best place to get our photos. So we raced up the street to the southwest and I took photos number two to the right and the photo above. Then we raced back to the north west looking for a higher hill. My daughter was the driver, that is why photo number three is a little blurry, but came out neat anyway. She drives like a bat out of you know where.
Going the other way
The sun was diving behind the horizon rather quickly so the first high clear spot we found, we took it.
Notice how the trees to the right of the center look. I have never seen that before. These photos look fake, but this is how intense it really looked. I finally got a photograph without the over head wires in it. I hope someday all poles will be gone and wires are ran under ground.
I have a friend who’s parents live in Montana at the ranch she grew up on. A movie director lived next to them. He decided to make a movie on part of their ranch. He went through and buried all the wires because it was a period movie set in the nineteenth century. So I know it can be done. By the way, her parents and neighbors ended up in the movie as neighbors and friends. This town only had two hundred residents, mostly cattle ranchers. The town grocery store was also the post office and local diner.
Back home
 
Back to the sunset. The next photo was taken on the way back to the house. Of course we were going a million miles an hour. But the photograph reminds me of a Vincent van Gogh. I like it, so I included it.
The last photo is when we got back to the house.  As you can see, there wasn’t much left. I am not sure if you can make out the barn or not.
It was an exciting fifteen minutes! You have to have the camera ready to go at all times, because you never know…

 

Unrelenting Fog

Fog is so mysterious. It can be scary, wet, suffocating, beautiful, or blinding.  It can hang low or hug the ground. It can look like cotton candy or have spiritual attributes.  However you think of fog, it is always noticeable and thought-provoking. 
Oh fog, hugging to the ground so tight,
you crept into the fields during the night.
Chilling to the bone, the wetness prevails,
loneliness, it’s companion, constantly wails.
 
Clinging to the trees, their fingers you grasp,
at the rising sun, an escaping gasp.
You roll across the landscape, running from fate,
only to rise higher as the morning turns late.
 
Hiding from us, beneath that veil,
our imaginations never fail.
Oh fog, oh fog, you mystical sight,
how you cause us such delicious fright!

Oh Fog

fog1

Oh fog, hugging to the ground so tight,
you crept into the fields during the night.
Chilling to the bone, the wetness prevails,
loneliness, it’s companion, constantly wails.

Clinging to the trees, their fingers you grasp,
at the rising sun, an escaping gasp.
You roll across the landscape, running from fate,
only to rise higher as the morning turns late.

Hiding from us, beneath that veil,
our imaginations never fail.
Oh fog, oh fog, you mystical sight,
how you cause us such delicious fright!

 

Flowers of a Different Color

Image Daisies up on the wet, foggy Mountain.

Green Thumb

My mom could grow anything, whether it was in the flower bed or in the vegetable garden. She had everything from African Violets to Zinnias. Her flower beds were a glorious bouquet every year. One year she went crazy on zucchini. We had zucchini stew, zucchini bread, fried zucchini, every thing that year had a zucchini in it somewhere. I have not eaten a zucchini since. After she passed away we discovered we still had jars of zucchini in the basement and she only grew them that one year! The next year was cucumbers. Now sweet pickles, especially bread and butter pickles I can eat till the cows come home. This hub is about flowers, not my moms flowers because I didn’t have a good camera back then.

I lived in a basement apartment of an old house for just short of a year. Always cold, but that is another story. Jim, who was my landlord loves flowers and he had the yard to prove it. From the first tulips in the spring to well into fall, there was always something blooming in his yard. Most of these photos come from his yard.

Misc.

These are flowers that I didn’t have enough to put in their own group or I wasn’t sure what they were. I marked the ones that weren’t taken at my apartment.

Lilies!

I love day lilies and Jim had so many varieties I couldn’t put them all here. I think I took a photo everyday from spring to fall. You should see my photo files on flowers. Huge! There is a day lily nursery south of here about forty miles I plan to go to. I think they are cheery and so bloomy. Yes I know that isn’t a real word, but it fits.

Daisies

Daisies are another cheerful flower and they are found most anywhere.

Iris

As long as I can remember, my mom had always had tiger lilies, roses and iris’s in the yard wherever we lived. Iris’s are hard to kill. One time we were going to transplant some and my brother sat them down by the back porch steps and then promptly forgot about them. They took root there and did very well even though the soil was mostly rock. My mom used to go to an Iris farm somewhere in Iowa to get her hybrid Iris’s. They were gorgeous with huge blooms. I even did a painting of one of her favorites.

Roses

My mom had an on-going love affair with roses all her life. She had climbing roses that grew right beside the front porch on a trellis and when I was a kid, I was always getting tangled in them when I went running out the door. Roses were the only flower that she seemed to have trouble growing. But she tried, year after year. They didn’t die and I thought they were pretty, but she felt that they just weren’t up to her standard of growing.
My mom knew every name of every plant in her yard. I just don’t retain stuff like that. You would think that I would have since I did much of the digging to plant those plants.
These photos are all of Jim’s roses.  He would have liked my mom, they would have been two peas in a pod.

Back Roads of Tennessee – a Photo Gallery

I lived on this street for a short time while waiting to move into my house.  It is a beautiful area.

Inside Cookeville city limits

In case you don’t have a clue, Cookeville is located almost midway Nashville and Knoxville on 40 Hwy. in Tennessee. It is not a large town, but it is a college town so the population fluctuates. I used to live right in the middle but have since moved to the country north of the city limits. It is a quiet town for the most part. Far less crime than most towns..
I will have a later article on other areas of Cookeville that is more in-depth. It has a lot to see. I will give more history on it. Now, on this article I just wanted to show some its beauty of Autumn.
As I said earlier, I did not grow up here, but yet it felt like home the moment I arrived. There is a town that is about thirty miles west of here that I am related to most of the population. I plan to do an article about that also. I need to take a day to go out and get some photos.


Out on the Back-Roads
There are a lot of beautiful places in Cookeville and the surrounding areas. These photographs were not taken within the city limits.
Miller Creek Road and Hunters Cove are two of my favorite places to shoot Autumn. It really is hard to shoot all there is here in Tennessee. I just make sure my camera is with me at all times.


Sometimes when I am driving down these back roads, John Denver‘s “Country Roads” starts floating through my brain. Other times when I have no idea where I am and the road is barely the width of my jeep, I start hearing the banjos from “Deliverance”. That sends a chill down my spine. I quietly lock my doors.
That rarely happens…. anymore. Tennessee people are nice people. At least in the country towns they are. I rarely go to Nashville or Knoxville. I have been through Chattanooga many times. There is a little town down just north of there called Soddy Daisy. Isn’t a neat name? Rolls off the tongue, Soddy Daisy.
“Where are you from?”
“Well I be from Soddy Daisy!”
“Ain’t that something.”
I always picture a soddy field with a bunch of daisies in it. They have a place there that serves the best fried chicken livers you could ever want. I don’t remember the name of the restaurant, but I could drive you there.
Have you ever tried to get directions in a small town?
“Well…. you go down here a far piece and turn left where Mable Johnson used to live, then…..”
I come from a small town, I have been guilty of giving directions like that. If you really want to know, ask a kid, they ride their bike everywhere and know everyone.
“Take me home, now country roads….”

Madame Butterfly?

This rush hour is killing me. Hey, watch it buddy!

This rush hour is killing me. Hey, watch it buddy!

I know what a Monarch Butterfly looks like. Beyond that I could not tell you what the names are, where they come from, and where they go during the winter. I know they are very fragile creatures.

I did find out a few facts.Tennessee’s state butterfly is the Zebra Swallowtail. There are one hundred and thirty-seven species of butterflies in Tennessee. Most of which, I thought were moths.

I know the ones I came across up at Roaring River Park were beautiful. My family, friends and I were at the park in July of 2010 to have a picnic and swim in the river. We have been up there many times, but this was the first time we ever noticed the butterflies down on the sand. I suppose it was because there were so many of them. They were everywhere on the beach.

Move over fellas, I'm coming in.
Move over fellas, I’m coming in.   Source: My Minds Eye53

 Why do we havta walk?  We have wings ya know.  Ow, my feets hurt and dis sand is hot......
Why do we havta walk? We have wings ya know. Ow, my feets hurt and dis sand is hot……   Source: My Minds Eye53

Finding a parking space is getting harder and harder.
Finding a parking space is getting harder and harder.  Source: My Minds Eye53
I know there is a landing strip here somewhere.
I know there is a landing strip here somewhere.   Source: My Minds Eye53

 

We went back up there this summer but there were hardly any there. I don’t know why they were so thick that summer. They were friendly also. Once I get my studio built I want to do some paintings from my photographs. I don’t have the room now.

After looking all I had were questions. Are each of the species colored exactly alike? Can they cross-breed? Maybe I am the only one who thinks of these silly things. I could not find the answers. So I will just admire them when I chance upon them. Another thought popped into my head. Were they around when dinosaurs ruled the earth? All my life I have taken them for granted. A friend informed me that these are all kinds of  swallowtail butterflies.  I have seen Monarchs here in Tennessee but haven’t been able to photograph any.  I had taken many more photos but my computer crashed and I lost most of my two thousand and ten photos. Some of them were my butterfly pictures.  I am thankful to have these. A lesson learned, always back up to the external drive.

I hope if anything my mental meanderings have caused you to pause and wonder a few things yourself. Not just about butterflies, there are literally millions of things on this earth to wonder about. We lose that amazement when we grow up, I haven’t but I am not a normal person. Being an artist, photographer and writer, I look for amazement.

A Butterfly Poem

Butterfly so majestic

your realm so wide,

where do you come from,

where do you hide?

You are like a painting

God set on wings.

I wonder at times,

if you have a tiny voice that sings.

What makes your colors

so bright and clear?

From caterpillar to butterfly

is there anything you fear?

Oh to fly like you do

on nothing but a breeze.

Do you die,

when comes a freeze?

So many questions for you,

as you land on my knee.

The most mysterious one;

are you a he or a she?