layered reflections

Today’s photo prompt for WordPress Photo 101 invites us to incorporate glass as a layer of interest in a photograph. Thank you for the opportunity to share some sun fun I had the other day as I peered through layers of lens, water, and crystal vase to follow distortions of linen lines. Please enjoy!

autumn twilight

leaves turning red

i took this one!

I remain obsessed with my understanding of something I recently read explaining the annual display of leaf-changing color so familiar to New Englanders. Essentially, it is this: that leaves do not change color so much as reveal the inherent color masked the rest of the season by the daily process of photosynthesis. The production of chlorophyll hides those colors all season until cold and weaker sunlight slow the process down. At which point what has lain beneath all along is gradually revealed!

True or not, it has inspired me numerous times this fall. In the spirit of this understanding, I offer the following Sunday mediation and accompanying photograph:

I am in
my twilight season
my green leaves
fading with autumn’s
cold baring inner
intrinsic color. Maturity
and girlishness entwined
at long last
settling without judgment.
I am whole
in this season
of fully inhabiting
my own being.


saved by daylight

Twice a year we go through this matter of daylight savings time change. Confusing enough to move through the seasons and keep the old biological clock ticking onward. Although it goes against the grain (I being indelibly and unshakably bound to nature’s seasons), perhaps the way for a staunch New Englander to be saved by daylight is to wake each morning to a dawn simulator. Seriously. I’m considering looking into it.

Because moving to California is not an option. Yes, I need the sunlight. I also need the seasons, the brisk snappy chill on winter cheeks that eventually drives me indoors to hot cocoa and a bone-warming fire. The first hint of spring emerging through sweet-scented dirt, the joy of visiting old friends and finding new volunteers in the garden. The lazy summer days that suggest sand, waves and a refreshing evening breeze. The raucous blaze of a lingering autumn in its multiple shades from coral to burnt umber.

Yes, I am saved by daylight, daily.

I need light
follow light, am
nurtured by light;
cat like, move
into each patch
as it shifts
through the day,
anticipate each spot
claimed a moment
to lift spirit,
set it free.