you know how there are some cowboys, fishermen, and farmers who seem to blossom into their craggy late middle-age faces? tommy lee jones faces. robert redford faces. faces like california deserts, that are somehow more handsome than the smoother, prettier versions of 30 or 40 years ago. with that thought in mind, i give you this burr oak.
old burr oak tree in winter
phalen boulevard, saint paul, minnesota
one of my all time favorite paint colors is payne’s gray. these blue-black berries are the carbon-based life-form incarnation of it.
february chokeberries or some other kind of ash tree
east saint paul, minnesota
the flowing locks of of a lovely flaxen-haired willow in front of my son’s school. Those little knots tell me spring is trying hard to arrive.
branches of a weeping willow in winter
east side of saint paul, minnesota
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and she will succeed no matter how hard she has to work for it. let’s cheer her on, shall we?
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A
Tall
Spruce
Up Above
The Harley Roar,
And Diesel Clatter
At Eighth and University.
Easy to Forget This
Tamed and Shapely Favorite
Of Urban Landscapers
Is a Boreal Species—Browse
For Moose, Shelter for Snowshoe
Hare, Winter Grouse Roost.
Along the Line Beyond Which All Trees
Give Up Growing, This Tree’s Fierce
And Stunted Relatives Stand Watch, Shaking In
Tundra Winds, As Wolves Stalk Caribou.
Of Course, That Kind of Life Has its Pros and Cons.
What is Offered Here at Eighth and University is a Benefits
Package that Includes Protection from Forest Fire, Longer
Life Span, Reduced Competition for Sunlight,
Lower Seedling Mortality, And
City Water. We Are All Transplants Here,
Dropping
Our
Pine
Cones
On The Impermeable Sidewalk.
poem by sjr hoffman
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beautiful image and words , thank you two
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Love the tree shape poem.
The buds are greening on my fig tree and a tiny leaf is peaking out of one of the buds. It is time to resume regular watering.
Micheline
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i decided today that there has been too much cold weather lamentation in this blog recently. so i would like to draw your attention not to the wintery twiggyness of this maple branch, but to its beauty–especially the delicate twin threads, like flower stamens, dangling from the ends of the five empty stems above the one remaining intact “helicopter.” i’d like to draw your attention not to the papery dry husks of the seed pods, but to the two dark chambers where next year’s growth waits, dormant but patient, for a little spring rain. not an ending, but a beginning.
maple seed pods and stems
my back yard
