Each Night A Luster

Kindle the taper like the steadfast star ablaze on evening's forehead o'er the earth, and add each night a luster till afar an eightfold splendor shine above thy hearth. ~ Emma Lazarus

So we're a little past the holiday season and as usual, I'm behind in posting my photos. I hope you'll bear with me as I share images from the the eight nights of Hanukkah. A few photos from a recent day trip to Mississauga will be sprinkled in with them.

On Hanukkah, the first dark night, light yourself a candle bright. I'll you, if you will me invite, to dance within that gentle light.

~ Nicholas Gordon

First Night: The menorah is all set to share the scene with a small Christmas tree in the background and a bottle of wine closer at hand.

Bare branches of each tree

on this chilly January morn

look so cold so forlorn.

Gray skies dip ever so low

left from yesterday's dusting of snow.

Yet in the heart of each tree

waiting for each who wait to see

new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,

like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,

buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow.

~ Nelda Hartmann

Beautiful Lake Wabukayne. My son, Alex and I took a tour around my old neighbourhood. This was the small lake in Mississauga where I spent countless hours photographing creatures of all kinds - just steps from my old door. We were in town for a family Hanukkah party and had a bit of time to kill. What better way than to take a walk around the paths of our past?

Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness. ~Chinese Proverb

Second Night: Night number two landed on Christmas. Alex was with me and you can see that plates were piled high with turkey, potatoes and other goodies. Wine and gravy each wait their turn to be poured, and a wine goblet makes a nice home for my spiced orange flavoured cranberry sauce.

I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape - the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn't show. ~ Andrew Wyeth

Here's a new addition to my old surroundings. Many of the trees around the lake have acquired bird houses. That should help encourage nesting for the winged lovelies.

Put on your yarmulke, Here comes Hanukkah! So much funukah, To celebrate Hanukkah! ~ Adam Sandler

Third Night: Hanukkah humour to tickle the funny bone. Both cards came from neighbours.

The trees down the boulevard stand naked in thought,

Their abundant summery wordage silenced, caught

In the grim undertow; naked the trees confront

Implacable winter's long, cross-questioning brunt.

~ D. H. Lawrence

My beautiful trees, still standing sentry for those who walk the paths of Wabukayne. I have photographed this spot so many times - in every season.

The darkness of the whole world cannot swallow the glowing of a candle. ~ Robert Altinger

Fourth Night: Reminders of dragonflies in summer - and an owl that doesn't give a hoot which season we're in.

The Winter frowned

Its icy eyebrows

~ Florentin Smarandache

There are far better seasons to stop and sit.

A candle is a small thing. But one candle can light another. And see how its own light increases, as a candle gives its flame to the other.

You are such a light. ~ Moshe Davis

Fifth Night: This fan belonged to my maternal Grandmother. It adorns a window ledge along with other keepsakes - a tiny set of brass goblets and decanter from my mother, tea candle holders and an old oil can from yard sales.

In the bleak midwinter

Frosty wind made moan,

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak midwinter,

Long ago.

~ Christina Rossetti

I'm so grateful that I have the opportunity to revisit my beautiful oasis, from time to time.

Now, near the Winter Solstice, it is good to light candles. All the nice meanings of bringing light to the world can be beautiful. But perhaps we are concentrating on lighting the world because we don't know how to light up our own lives. ~ Ralph Levy

Sixth Night: A different window ledge and a small collection of turquoise and blue.

I please myself with the graces of the winter scenery, and believe that we are as much touched by it as by the genial influences of summer.

~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

The Spindle berries were only beginning to fade around the edges. They keep their colour so beautifully through the earlier part of winter.

Most Texans think Hanukkah is some sort of duck call. ~ Richard Lewis

Seventh Night: Once again the tree makes its appearance in the background and a couple of birds enjoy the glow of the almost-full menorah.

It is deep January. The sky is hard.

The stalks are firmly rooted in ice.

It is in this solitude, a syllable,

Out of these gawky flitterings,

Intones its single emptiness,

The savagest hollow of winter-sound.

~ Wallace Stevens

A solitary milkweed pod soaking up some of the winter afternoon sunlight.

Colourful candles burning bright, each lit on eight very special nights. ~ Unknown

Eighth Night: This is the first year that I can remember being home for all eight nights of Hanukkah. On this final evening, I am glad to be able to share the kindling of the candles with all of you. Thank you for joining me for this season of light - here on the blog and in Facebook.

More winter photos coming up before you can say "Jack Frost."

The Promise of Spring

All winter long, I've felt as if we've hovered somewhere between November and March, with none of those really seasonal months in between. It's not been terribly cold. Promises of significant snowfalls turn into dustings, and melt away before another day passes. The words "wind chill" have hardly factored into our temperatures at all.

For the early part of the winter, it seemed like November just lingered on. And now that the days are growing longer and sunnier, and birds are beginning to sing their mating songs, it seems like we've skipped right over winter and into an early spring. At least, so far.

I'm not complaining. Not one bit. True, the snowy photo opportunities were almost non-existent. True, the joy of seeing the last of an accumulation melt away hasn't happened. True, there's been limited snowballs to toss around for our over-energetic Benny. But also true is that I've enjoyed this winter that never was. And it might not be over, anyway. March may still turn out to be something we've not bargained for.

It won't be too much longer no matter what happens from here on in. And I'm enjoying the promise of spring. I hope you'll enjoy the late February sunshine along with me.

Late afternoon is the best time of day for sun kissed images at this time of year. Come on down the steps with me and we'll head out into the park.

These exposed tree roots are probably anxious for a snowier winter next year. They look rather thirsty.

Sunlight and shadows create various faces on this beautiful cedar trunk. I can see a sad, feminine face over to the left, looking to the right. Does it speak to you?

Milkweed pods are clever. They open at all different times of the year from late summer until well into the winter, ensuring that some of their seeds are ripe for rooting whenever the need arises.

Tree lovers share a kiss in the late day sunlight.

Another holdout - the bare bones of this seed pod and its fine tendrils which once held ivy-like leaves.

New buds are evident on this branch which still clings to last year's leaves.

It shouldn't be long at all now. Hopefully.

Milkweed

Milkweed
©2009 by Rolland G. Smith

I wonder when our lives are done,
If there is something past the Sun?
I feel it in a pod display
And see it in its light array.

The wings of down sustain the life
When endings burst in seeming strife.
There must be more beyond the pod
When usefulness becomes the sod.

Angelic seeds will take its flight
Upon the breeze of day or night.
And start anew in place supreme
To let the soul expand its dream.

Permission to post this poem was kindly granted by Rolland G. Smith.

Please watch this one minute video of him narrating his lovely poem.

You can also visit his website and blog.

Summer's End

I'm back from our time up at the cottage and boy, do I have a lot of catching up to do. It seems that none of you stop blogging just because I'm away, and I have hundreds of posts to visit. Eventually.

None of these photos were posted before but you may find some of the items familiar, as they were photographed from different angles and used in previous posts.

To me, they represent some of the best of the summer season, as it now passes so quickly into autumn. Take a deep breath and enjoy some of the colourful summer offerings.

I have no idea what this pink, spiky pod is but it reminded me of a Koosh ball. It was a windy day, so the image isn't in great focus but I still liked the look.

I can't help but think of the late, great Erma Bombeck whenever I see a bowl of cherries. One of her humourous books was titled "If Life is a Bowl of Cherries, What am I Doing in the Pits?"

Black-eyed Susans are always cheery to see on a late August stroll.

A maple leaf, glistens after a summer rain.

A coneflower, with it's beautiful deep pink petals

Another pod - milkweed this time.

And a bright yellow sunflower turns its shy face away from the camera.

On A Country Road

I guess I'm officially in spring/summer mode. Lately I've been scrambling to get blog posts out, I am often remiss about responding to your comments and I tend to be visiting your blogs less frequently. I sometimes catch up only to find myself way behind again just two days later.

The good weather means I'm enjoying the outdoors more, clicking the camera more and will have more photos to share. The downside is that I have less time to visit and comment on your own fine posts. Posts of the week will continue as long as I have at least a few to share. That too may suffer through this season of fine weather, outings and time spent away from home. I hope you understand my sporadic visits.

Below are a few scenes which caught my eye when I took a stroll down a country road, leaving the fishing to Frank and his son.

Throw your heart over the fence and the rest will follow. ~ Norman Vincent Peale

I like fences of all shapes and sizes. This simple wire fence beside a knotted tree just caught my attention. It just seemed right on a lazy, hazy country day.

A good neighbor is a fellow who smiles at you over the back fence, but doesn't climb over it. ~ Arthur Baer

Another roadside fence, with a canoe ready for portage to the waters just across the road. You can see that a young artist lives at this home - a bright red chalkboard at the ready for some colourful creations.

Give me a fruitful error anytime, full of seeds, bursting with its own corrections. ~ Vilfredo Pareto

An interesting seed pod in the middle of a vine-like growth. I have no idea what it might be but I liked its swirls and colours.

If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, speak then unto me. ~ William Shakespeare

A pair of milkweed pods, complete with feathery seeds willing to perpetuate this plant's life.

Always write angry letters to your enemies. Never mail them. ~ James Fallows

A bright red mailbox, reflected in a puddled country road. I wonder if there was happy news within, or did they just get bills like the rest of us?

A warm smile is the universal language of kindness. ~ William Arthur Ward

There were at least two dozen cut trees close to the edge of the road along the half-mile or so stretch where I walked. I'm not sure why. This stump stood out because it appeared to be winking and smiling at me - kind of like a typed smiley, like this... ;)

Let everyone sweep in front of his own door, and the whole world will be clean. ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

This was a drive-by shooting, on our way home. There was a car behind us and Frank couldn't stop. You can see part of the back, side window at the bottom of the image. The door leads to a tiny, over-packed shop, filled with yard sale-like items. I know that because we've stopped by for a visit in the past.

Happy Mother's Day to all Moms who celebrate this day, here in North America. I'll have more photos for you in a few days.

The Warm Breath of Spring

Pussywillows,

cat-tails,

soft winds and roses

Rainbows in the woodland, water to my knees

Shivering, quivering, the warm breath of spring

Pussywillows, cat-tails, soft winds and roses.

Lyrics by Gordon Lightfoot. Images by Mother Nature.

My blog-reading and commenting is still sporadic at best these days. I hope to catch up and get back to regular visits soon.