Noticing

Fallen maple leaf July 20, 2022

Rescue

a leaf,

curling and dry,

tumbled through the night storm

into an outstretched limb of spruce;

catching.

July 20, 2022

In the morning, after a night of rain, I took my “big” camera out with the macro lens attached, looking for small subjects.  Whenever I do this, I am startled by how many little things I see. Here is a leaf that fell from a maple tree above the Timberbluff cottages and was caught by its stem on the limb of a blue spruce.  It was chance that it caught just like that, chance that i saw it, but it felt like a message. I got you.

July 22, 2022

I looked up the story behind the name a long time ago.  Queen Anne (Anne Boleyn, who was later executed by Henry VII), was apparently stitching some fine lace one day when she pricked her finger.  A single drop of blood fell on the white lace, leaving a tiny purple stain.  Not all the flowers you see will have this tiny little mark, but it was because of those that do that this pretty wildflower got its name.  I don’t know if the story is true; but ever since I heard it; I look more closely at the blossoms.

July 24, 2022

I got caught in a rainstorm while running, and noticed (once again, because I’ve noticed before) how the drops fall in puddles and create bubbles on the surface. I stopped to try to catch one; watching them forming, floating, bursting until my timing was just right … I finally caught one. Am I caught in there too?

July 25, 2022

I often see natural compositions so perfect that they seem “meant”.  This heart-shaped stone and its two little pebble companions sunken in the smooth sand were like this.  It feels like the universe reaching out to be heard…love every little thing…appreciate every little beauty…

July 26, 2022

So many little things calling for my attention.  The empty nest that fell in the grass.  The red mushroom pushing itself through the dirt in the woods.  The tiny grasshopper that jumped inside the barn just as I was about to close the door.  So many little things forming, dissolving. So many little lives pushing, pulling, falling, breaking apart, jumping in, jumping out, being rescued, being smashed.  How will I ever get any work done?

Simplicity

delicately, the fly

mingles with the dark-veined leaves-

harmony in green

If you will stay close to nature, to its simplicity, to the small things hardly noticeable, those things can unexpectedly become great and immeasurable.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Deer Season

Deer Season

every morning deer

leave the woods through my garden

on the way to the lake with their spotted fawns

every morning they pause

to nibble on the tall grass at the side of the drive

as the little ones gather around

every morning I see them

and I adjust the focus and aim of my camera

to capture

a little piece of their

wild souls

Sunday Morning

I stepped outside to turn the sprinkler on in the garden as she was walking through the yard. I startled her.  She hid behind a scraggly shrub in the woods,afraid, but still a little curious.She stopped there; still; and stared at me pointing my camera at her pretty face. Realizing (I hope) that I meant no harm, she walked away slowly into the woods.

Monday

I saw the babies outside through the window, three of them, chewing on the tall grass. I slowly and quietly picked up my camera, setting the exposure and focus distance based on a guess before opening the front door as silently as possible. Barefoot, I tiptoed out on the drive trying to stay out of sight. They saw me anyway.  They were not afraid.  The one in front even stamped his (her?) foot at me a few times. Then their mother came out of the woods and they dutifully followed her downthe unpaved road toward the lake.

Wednesday

I saw the mother first.  She turned and saw me and stood there so resolutely, I suspected the fawns were near.   She snuck a quick glance at the woods, and I knew I was right.  The first one stepped out awkwardly, looking back at his siblings, not noticing me.  Then the other two appeared.  One of them noticed his mother staring up the hill and followed her gaze, finding me.  The bold one, from Monday? Maybe.  He (she?) was very slow to break eye contact with me.  But eventually their mother encouraged them on; and I walked back to the house, letting them go without following.

I would like to learn how to identify them by their markings like the naturalists do. How do they do that? What varies?  I don’t even know how to tell if they’re male or female unless they have their antlers. I’d like to be able to differentiate them from each other; to know each one as an individual, follow them as they grow older.