“Frosty Friday”

Ed Lehming Photography

“On even the coldest winter days, the warm glow of the beech leaves radiate with a warmth that makes my very soul glad. I cannot help but smile with joy when I am blessed to be among them.” – Ed Lehming

I’ve posted about the beauty of beeches in the winter on many occasions, yet I continue to find myself drawn to them. They provide me an inexplicable sense of joy in the dull and frigid winter time.

As I set out on the trails today, the temperatures hovered around -14C. There was no wind and the sun shone brightly yet low in the sky. Despite the extreme temperatures, the rays of the sun still found their way between the tall pines and set the beech leaves ablaze in copper splendour.

I stood among the trees, basking in the simple beauty of these trees. My spirit soared and a huge…

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Mary Smith – a life well lived

No, she won’t be forgotten, Meeks

Meeka's Mind

Mary Smith came into my life via her blog posts about cancer, her cancer, but she stays in my memory because of her book :

That book opened my eyes to the power of Afghan women. They are not the meek, retiring people I’d imagined. Like Mary herself, they are strong and fearless.

I can’t call Mary ‘friend’ because I did not know her beyond the pages of a book or the posts on a blog. That lack became incredibly clear today as I watched the live stream of her memorial service. What she accomplished, with integrity and compassion, are an example to us all.

Many years ago at university, I discovered the concept of Eudaimon. It’s an impossible concept to distil into just a few words, but what stayed with me was the image of a man lying on his deathbed, looking back over his life and having no…

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Frosty Fate…

Image by Tapani Hellman from Pixabay

The grass crunched under my shoes as I trudged towards the empty birdfeeders. The cold quickly found its way through my thin shirt, and the air hurt my throat and lungs with each breath, but the birds were hungry, and my conscience would not let me rest indoors.

My fingers, never fond of the cold, grew painful as I wrestled with the bucket of fat balls and bag of the finest seed mixture, before coping with the intricacies of the feeders.

Image by Tobikoz from Pixabay

The sunlight was blinding and most welcome, yet ineffective this early in the day against the thick frost and biting temperatures. It would be another hour at least before everything warmed up and the frost melted, only to reappear the following morning. When I finished, I stood back, pleased to have done my bit for our feathered friends. I looked around the garden, at how different it seemed these days. The plants had died down and were fast asleep, everything wearing a thick dusting of what looked like icing sugar. Here and there, late flowers had paid the price and were crystalised for their tardiness.

I started to wonder what fate had in store for us this year. Lord knows it hadn’t started well already and I knew it would be weeks before there was any hope of an improvement…

Haiku

Colleen M. Chesebro

I love haiku. They are one of my favorite syllabic forms to write. This haiku is written for #TankaTuesday and the specific form challenge.

Haiku are written about nature, the seasons, a beautiful moment in nature, an emotional experience while in nature, or change. In haiku, your subject will always be about nature.

The use of a kigo (season word) is optional for this challenge. However, traditionally, a haiku must includekigo(season words) and akireji(cutting word).

There is no exact equivalent ofkirejiin English. The kireji (or pivot) should supply structural support to the verse.At the end of a verse, it provides an ending, completing the verse with a heightened sense of closure. That is why it is often called an “a-ha moment.” The pivot connects the two images in an unusual way. When writing haiku, we should create two independent thoughts that compare or contrast.

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Time

Afterwards

She slips her hand, soft, into his and tender does suggest

that had she known him years ago then all would now be best

Sweet promises that seek to mend the things that cause such rot

With shallow smile he nods, and lies, for he believes her not

Like knotted roots, the tangled web of thoughts run deep and wide

And in the dark he chooses what she seeks to coldly hide

For these things make us who we are, and stoic he persists

Lives the ruin he will not give up, that blinds like winter’s mists

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