On the autumnal equinox, September 22, the sun rose behind a bit of smoke and haze….the temperatures were discernibly cooler — the shift toward autumn weather has most certainly begun.
The view down by the water was lovely as the cool air washed over me, and the waves crept up on the shore.
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I am utterly fascinated and captivated by the unique unfurling of each frond of the ferns in the forest. Each one unfurls in its own individual way. None are critical of how the other is doing opening up, they are just all opening, easing the tightness of each part and easing into openness.
I know spring is a problem time for those of us who suffer with allergies to grasses, pollens, and more. I sure do. But at the same time my itching eyes are awed at the beauty of the grasses that are scattered around with such variety, and with great beauty in the details. There’s colour and texture and, to me, a world of wonder in these grass flowers and seed heads. This is one that caught my eye this morning, noting its magenta colouring and the feathery tendrils.
Like a colossal paw on the forest floor, a giant cedar rests on the ground. The limbs that spread from its trunk are now trees themselves, nourished from the strong trunk with its roots still pressed into the soil.
The brilliant fresh green of the deer-foot (a.k.a. vanilla leaf) and more properly Achlys triphylla -- it is a delight to see their slender stalks, and the tight leaves, like hands with their palms pressed together, then opening like praying hands opening to the light —
The flowers will emerge later but meanwhile these beauties light up the forest floor everywhere the sun filters through.
Some days, though the sun shines, I need some extra light and brightness. This yellow tulip in the morning sun, is such a gift. I needed this one today!
I love not only the brilliant glow of this tulip, and its yellow-gold, but the slight pink blush adds another touch of beauty to this one.
I’ve walked past this particular huckleberry for years but it was only yesterday I noticed the extraordinary lesson it was offering.
A metaphor of rootedness perhaps?
The stump that offered it life, and a strong base for its young life, has rotted quite thoroughly and is continuing to fall away, yet the strong roots continue to hold the huckleberry steady.
What a marvel! I’m going to think on this… but meanwhile, I wonder what it says to you?
From a crevice in the cracked sandstone ridge, a slender young hemlock tree stretches up into the light. Sheltered by the large cedars, the sunlight filters through.
In the morning and in the afternoon, the sunlight highlights the beauty all around…. The salmon berry blossom in the morning light (below), and the flowering currant in the afternoon as the sun lowers…
It’s been several (if not many) days since we’ve had a colourful sunrise. And many days since I could see clearly where the sun rose on the horizon. So today was a special treat, and a gloriously beautiful start. Though it has clouded over now, I’m going to linger with the beauty and wonder of the day’s beginnings.
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