The trees in the pasture in Kellum Valley always are gorgeous in the Autumn, but they also are lovely in the Spring. I love the term “pocket of joy.” I first heard it on a Netflix reality show when one of the main stars, speaking of his difficult growing-up years, also spoke of the pockets of joy…
Tag: springtime
Through the woods
As Spring approaches, the afternoon sunlight through the trees is changing. Here are three views through the woods, taken from my front porch. If you look closely at the first photo you can see the roof and chimney of my neighbor’s house. She is an amazing artist, and the house was once a railroad station….
Beautiful while they lasted…
“Look at the cherry blossoms! Their color and scent fall with them, Are gone forever, Yet mindless The spring comes again.” ― Ikkyu Our neighbor’s cherry tree was beautiful this year, and for a brief time our lane was strewn with pink blossoms.
“Let the rain kiss you…”
Flowering quince in the rain “Let the rain kiss you. Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops. Let the rain sing you a lullaby.” (Langston Hughes)
Witch Alder
In the 21 years we have lived here in Northeast Georgia, I have never seen our Fothergilla bloom as it has this year. Commonly known as Witch Alder or Mountain Witch-Hazel, the Fothergilla is a slow-growing shrub that is native to the southeastern United States. The flowers are brush-like and bloom from April to early May before the…
Pink and green on blue
What a lovely contrast between these two trees budding out in pink and green against a cloudless blue sky… Spring heralds the return of the sun’s warmth, the renewal of life, and the reappearance of green and color everywhere. (Jean Van’t Hul)
The Harbinger of Spring
The first (and so far the only) robin of the season arrived just over a week ago at the end of January. A couple of days later I saw it again and followed it all around the back garden until I finally was able to capture it in this photo. Robin’s Come by William Warner…
“The crocuses were first”
From The Crocuses By Frances Ellen Watkins Harper They heard the South wind sighing A murmur of the rain; And they knew that Earth was longing To see them all again… And the sunbeams gave them welcome. As did the morning air And scattered o’er their simple robes Rich tints of beauty rare. Soon a host…
Unexpected in common hours 