Thursday, August 1, 2013

quiet as a feather

Today, a walk into the small suburban forest. I needed this particular type of light and so have posted far too many photos, but thank you for indulging me.


You really must listen to this poem by Rumi read by Tilda Swinton.

Another poem from Mary Oliver's A Thousand Mornings (on the recommended shelf above).


Today I'm flying low and I'm
not saying a word.
I'm letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must,
the bees in the garden rumbling a little,
the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.
And so forth.

But I'm taking the day off.
Quiet as a feather.
I hardly move though really I'm traveling
a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors
into the temple.

I'm not really taking the day off. Right now that seems but a dream.....But I am going to reserve part of the day where I, too, can be as quiet as a feather. Quiet and alone.

I don't walk to the little forests that are within a reasonable distance to my house every day. I have to be in the right mood, the light has to be a certain light.

But yes, the day before yesterday was one of those days. I hadn't been for a while, which somehow makes it a bit more magical.

I love the delphinium in the top photo - they appear throughout the trees, I suppose as weeds. Re-seeded by the wind from someone's garden.

The flowers below are thought of as weeds by some, too, and grow wild all over Alberta. I remember coming upon them as a child and thinking they were the most beautiful things I'd ever seen. It's a moment I remember with such clarity.

The forest light seems such a gift to me. And also, it's quiet as a feather when I'm there.

I became obsessed by shooting these particular leaves from different angles, seeing how the light changed my seeing.

Another delphinium, this one had been trampled on. Bit past its prime, too.

Many people must wander into this particular stand of trees. There's a clearing that's obviously well used. And so there are places within that get trampled and pulled down and sawed at. Little fires are made.

Someone tried to tear down a bit of a tree, and ended up half killing it.

And along the perimeters, Saskatoon berries.

This little chickadee was waiting for me to leave so it could try for one of the berries.

And these white berries. Not edible, so far as I know. I remember them from childhood as the berries you would pick and throw at you siblings :)

And then, the walk home. Someone has planted these beauties and they've made their way over the fence.


  1. Shawna, the last three photos are of haskap berries, usually called honeyberries at farmers' markets. They look ripe... have you tasted them?

    1. Cool! Thanks for this, Lindy. Didn't know. I haven't tasted them.....that would be stealing wouldn't it? lol!


Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...