It seems like a lifetime since I was last able to walk the LaCamas Lake trail in the warmth of the sun. A week ago, the cold of winter parted and allowed a sneak peak of spring to be. I grabbed my camera and headed out for the trail and was not disappointed.
I had not seen my shadow in so long!
The reflective color of the deep blue sky sets of the winter bare foliage and and moss covered trees. 
The jet contrails make abstract art in the water.
And the full moon rises to lend her beauty to the sky.I am taking part in a small poetry and prose exchange that will continue through all the days of winter. I thought I would share a few of my words:
December 30, 2008
How much more vibrant are the colors of the landscape when heard through the song of birds and the percussion of wind and rain. The music of the landscape is composed by all who share its bounty and color forms the notes in which it is written. Each being plays its own melody - a flash of red thunder wing , a shy soprano in drab grey, the dark melancholy of bare, brown branches, the jaunty tune of a squirrel stealing peanuts from the blare of the sky blue jays – yet all these songs will join together to create the symphony of life.
How much more vibrant are the colors of the landscape when heard through the song of birds and the percussion of wind and rain. The music of the landscape is composed by all who share its bounty and color forms the notes in which it is written. Each being plays its own melody - a flash of red thunder wing , a shy soprano in drab grey, the dark melancholy of bare, brown branches, the jaunty tune of a squirrel stealing peanuts from the blare of the sky blue jays – yet all these songs will join together to create the symphony of life.
January, 27, 2009
Fly wild and free
Joyously celebrate your freefall, weightless
Dance in the clouds
While singing your trumpet songs
On your southward journey home.
I close my eyes and feel
Your windon my face
And become a feather on your wing
Taking my spring-yearning heart
toa a warmer land
Leaving on ly my time worn body
to contend with the cold winter.
I dream of daffodil sun.
February 5, 2009
Small yellow suns dot the grass
Dandelion wine, you say...
But I see thousands of white downy parachutes
Blowing in the wind
Eager to seed another star.
No weeds, these
But small worlds yet to be
2 comments:
Hi Jan, I like your photos and poems and feel the longing for spring and warmth. Paula
INCREDIBLE and BREATHTAKING.. your words and picture have such power behind them... I feel transported to another place.
WELL DONE!
XO
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