Showing posts with label Winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Winter. Show all posts

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Something Happened in My Head Last Night

Something happened in my head last night;
I expected it to happen in my heart.
That’s what I thought was at stake, you see,
My heart and maybe my soul.
These spike-like holes opened up in my head.
Dark, I thought they were black!
I walked my spirit through one of them
And it filled itself with light.

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Urban Planted Tulip Above the Boathouse, circa 2008

Wednesday, March 20, 2013

Innocent Snow Being Heading Toward--Oh My Gosh! It's a.... a ... a ... a......

Snow Being goes by many names:  Little Foot, since she or he leaves no trace; Snow Drop, since he or she appears only when snowflakes stick to the Earth just so; Fare-Thee-Well, since perfection is its natural state.  Nobody knows where Snow dwells, although there are those who say there is a darkened burrow near an unknown station in a tunnel of the IRT.  The scary, wide-eyed snow being is seldom seen, and often considered to be a myth. 

Nobody knows the temperament of Snow; nobody interferes; nobody photographs, nobody records for fear of ramifications.  However, as we know, absolutely nothing, can deter our fearless and sensitive photographer from the action scene--not snow, not cold, not a scary situation. 

Hark!   Sensing danger, our Brave Photographer rushes outside, and Lo! There is Snow Being, creeping with perplexity toward a dark, round something in the road.  Our photographer, confused by Snow's hesitation, looks carefully.  There, in the middle of the snow-lined tracks, is an Evil Person Hole-Cover!  Never would our sensitive photographer interrupt an innocent Snow Being, but what else could she do? Snow Being's very life was in difficulty!  Flash! went Brave Photographer.  Click!  Click! 

Frightened for her/his life, Snow fled to safety, leaving us the only known and documented reflection of her Being.

Innocent Snow Being on 94th Street unknowingly facing Evil Person Hole-cover

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Late Winter MudPuddle

There is nothing quite as captivating as a Late Winter MudPuddle, preparing for spring, and with a walking Tree !

20130303Winter mudpuddle-DSC_2582.jpg

Friday, February 22, 2013

'Tis Cold, 'Tis Winter, 'Tis Sunless!

Oh Winter Sun, where art Thou? Thou art Missing!
Oh Spring Thaw, why art Thee not nipping at my frozen Roots?
'Tis nigh on March!

Art thou Shy?

Harlem Meer in February 2013

For the likely derivation of this scale, see Fahrenheit, The Straight Dope

Thursday, February 21, 2013

That Elusive Dream

I know it’s the way I am looking at things,
So I think I’ll change my mind.
The arrows and slings that fortune brings
Are the usual kind, I find, so
I’ve decided to change the way I project,
The way I project, the way I detect
To ways positively inclined, so

When fate seems determined to screw up the week
I'll just give my perceptions a suitable tweak!
If plans go awry and we're sadly depressed
Well, perhaps we are actually just being blessed
With a chance to redeem that unfulfilled dream
We may have in our hearts and yet never expressed.

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New York Kentucky Coffee Tree on a Winter Night

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Central Park Spring Thaw

Aching and desiring
Shivering into a thawing crack
Playing a hide and seeking game
Pushing out and holding back.
Frozen and burning in the winter fire
Spinning and breaking from the inside out
Counting on another spring
To conjure and decipher what it’s all about.


Sunday, February 10, 2013

Winter Witch-hazel / Metropolitan Museum of Art

Passerby:  What is that tree?
Me:  It's a Witch-hazel.
Passerby:  It can't be a Witch-hazel, Witch-hazel's supposed to be yellow.
Me: This one is orange.
Passerby: Well...

Witch-Hazel near the Metropolitan Museum of Art

Ice Blue Dreams

Ice-crusted wind whistling through the canyons
snarling into corners, snuffling up to the window panes.
Brown sugar frozen on the ginger bread houses
daydreams cringing at the Grimm realities
lost among the dead ends of the mind.

Day cracks open, crunching, pounding,
dressed in winter blue.
Oh, what a Blue!
Shall I take that crystal daylight bait?
Why risk that wrenching heartache one more time?
Why not harken back to childish satisfactions?

I am a lake fish trapped and flapping under frozen water.
Free me! I am in a small space too young to die.
Or am I creeping paw by paw above the fragile ice
that holds me up from freezing?
Inside out and upside down
I trace my way along the membranes of reality.

Central Park, Post Nemo

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Walking your Dog in Nemo Blizzard

Winter storm Nemo on East 94th:  1 AM in the middle of the street.

Nemo at 1:30 AM in NYC

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

St. Francis De Sales

While feeling off kilter today I decided to take a walk.  Well!  It was 20 degrees F. with 17 miles per hour wind!!  I sought shelter after a couple of very chilly blocks.  And look what's inside 135 East 96th Street!

Saint Francis de Sales Roman Catholic Church

135 East 96th Street
New York, NY 10128

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Pedestrian Barely Escapes

Traffic! Wind! Snow! Crosswalks!  Green light; Red light! 
!!  "R"U"N"  !!

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Pedestrian escapes, barely!

Monday, January 28, 2013

Police and / or Fire? Have no Fear

It's time to seriously consider whether or not our newly created alarms, scanners, secret elevator cameras and iPhones are really ready to take on the job of comfort and protection provided by our more traditional sentries:

."Neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night, nor the winds of change, nor a nation challenged, will stay us from the swift completion of our appointed rounds." {see note}

Brave and Hardy Police and Fire Sentry at Park Avenue and 94th

[Note] Similarly, 
An inscription on the James Farley Post Office in New York City reads:
Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.[1]
This phrase was a translation by Prof. George H. Palmer, Harvard University, from an ancient Greek work of Herodotus describing the Persian system of mounted postal carriers c. 500 B.C. The inscription was added to the building by William Mitchell Kendall of the architectural firm of McKim, Mead & White, the building's architects. It derives from a quote from Herodotus' Histories, referring to the courier service of the ancient Persian Empire:
It is said that as many days as there are in the whole journey, so many are the men and horses that stand along the road, each horse and man at the interval of a day’s journey; and these are stayed neither by snow nor rain nor heat nor darkness from accomplishing their appointed course with all speed.
—Herodotus, Histories (8.98) (trans. A.D. Godley, 1924)

Monday, January 21, 2013

The Fallow Days

These are the fallow days,
mustard seeds in the planning stages,
an applecore tossed into a fertile heap,
spring sleeping underground and unaware,
resolution makers vowing one more year
to rearrange the miracle.


Tuesday, January 15, 2013

On the usefulness of pans placed on fence posts (it's Crestone....)

Some things make perfect sense, especially in Crestone Colorado!

20121225Bowl on a post in Crestone -DSC_2388.jpg
Snow Resting on Pan on Fencepost in the Mornng
Dark-eyed Junco sitting on Pan of Resting snow on top of Fencepost in Late Afternoon

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Dark-eyed Junco sitting on Pan of Resting
now on top of Fencepost in Late Afternoon (photo ©

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Love and the Drop Off Points

What happens when love takes the time to strengthen,
what happens if it passes,
and the day tomorrow leaves behind
is chilled and withed,
holding us without a chance,
at the drop off point where death takes over,
how can we hold the weary fort,
when battle scars the very heart of the earth.

How can we love without knowing,
how can we hold on without a knotted center
keeping us from flying off,
how can I watch the day die
and still live to see the morning
sneaking back to life against the sallow sky?

I did, and then I turned around
and just walked out of the picture.

What could I do?
I didn't know how to talk it over.

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Magnolia Buds in December, Central Park

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Winter Song

The old limb covered with heavy snow brushed its twigs along the ground.
A melancholy strain wound round the bitter hanging notes.
I didn’t hear the fearing song for that cold night crack
that separates forever the dying from the living, sleeping sap.

Frost etched the story on a window pane that night.
Spitting, cracking, sculpting, finally melting into dawn.
Leaf by leaf and drop by drop the limb let go of its breaking burden--
and bounced back up in the winter sun.

Walking along the shadow edge I was caught by the song of the happy bough
Maybe I stayed a minute or so, it was cold you see,
And even though my spirits lifted in symmetry
I was caught that day and called away by the vicissitude of the here and now.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

Sparrow Ounce Finds a New Winter Activity

It's been awhile since I spent much time with Ounce, and I wondered what was happening..  Well!  It seems as though Ounce has taken up a new activity. It is winter, and therefore it is not a good time to go swimming.  "Come on", said Ounce. "Let me show you the most fun thing to do.".  Of course I followed along as best I could, while Ounce hopped and flew from tree to tree making an effort not to let me fall too far behind.  Finally, I caught up, and there was Ounce, as happy as you please, watching traffic! 

And if you have never tried it lately, it is totally fun, if you pay the correct sort of Ouncy attention.
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Ounce Watches Traffic

Thursday, January 26, 2012

Witch Hazel in Central Park in January

Look closer!  Way in among the wrinkly petals are tiny yellow star flowers.  Let me take you closer...
Central Park, January Witch Hazel
Miss Witch Hazel, Dressed in Ribbons

Monday, January 23, 2012

Winter in New York

Winter  blowing--stiff, dry, rustling in the empty lot,
Vacant, covered with weeds,
Broken bottle scraps etched by the sandy summer rains.
Caps with cork, buried and dented

Mind splintering, rasped edges, frozen with footprints

White owl swivels, vanishing into a naked tree--
I know it’s snowing! Don’t tell me!
I’ve seen those shriveled twigs, barked by snow, white theatrics!
Grey midnights, star-stuffed skies

Mind shivering, sockets empty, iced with dreams

I’ve tasted snow already! Stinging, melty, dusty, smelling of wire,
Flakes clumping on the window screen. Yes,
I see the spring shadows, hunching over the branchy tips,
Curling, nipping at the buds

Mind cracking, strafed by morning, sniffing after spring.

Compressed reservoir snowstorm January 28 016

Sunday, January 22, 2012