stained glass

i don’t think i’ve made an image this good in several weeks. and the beauty of it is, i didn’t even make it. i called in my daughter eva this afternoon and let her loose with some cattail blades and a scissors, and she proceeded, methodically, to outshine me. brava.

cattail leaves

impermanence

this snow will be meltwater tomorrow. some seasons last three months. some last weeks. some days. the season of sticky snow on branches will likely last about 24 hours. are you saying that isn’t a season?

wet snow on oak branches

hiding in plain sight

at some point in late february i start noticing the vibrant yellow branch tips of our massive weeping willows. the willow are here all winter with their long flaxen hair, but at some point in late february or early march, that flaxen hair turns a vivid golden yellow. i’ve spent the past 30 minutes googling a possible explanation for this: has the sap already begun to run? is there some late winter casing? are they swelling and the light is catching them differently?  I can’t find anything online. surely i am not the first to observe this. i’ve been noticing it ever since i started STILL. maybe henry david thoreau. if anyone would have noticed this, it would have been old anal-retentive hank. ok, where did i store those journals of his? hmm. well it’s been great. gotta go.

weeping willow twig bundle

your logo here

or maybe this is the sticker on your backyard honey, or your strawberry preserves, or your canned peaches, or your tomato sauce. ok. i’m googling “canning labels.” see you tomorrow.

dried golden yellow flowers and leaves

roadsidia

here in the north, mullein grows from ground level to about 2 meters tall each summer. they look like miniature, armless saguaro cactuses. in winter, their sturdy stems withstand the wet snows, and stand  tall and straight out of the meter-deep snow along most of our roadsides. they also happen to be among the most important and versatile fire starters in this land of cold and snow. their leaves make good tinder. their stalks make good flint. their seedheads make good kindling, and their roots make good sockets for a bow drill. if you don’t know what any of that means, i feel sorry for you. you have never felt the creep of deep cold, relieved gradually by a fire built of elements that had nothing to do with petrochemical infrastructure.

mullein (verbascum)