by William Carlos Williams
All the complicated details
of the attiring and
the disattiring are completed!
A liquid moon
moves gently among
the long branches.
Thus having prepared their buds
against a sure winter
the wise trees
stand sleeping in the cold.
There's something so powerful and silent about winter trees. Yesterday, I walked on slippery sidewalks to the little forest in the next neighbourhood. It calls to me from time to time. Regular readers of CT will recognize the tree above. The tree I can never quite capture properly, to my satisfaction. I actually like the above photograph, even if it's not, you know, quite. I do like the juxtaposition of the 'city' tree, against the wild, leftover, country trees. There are a few city trees in that area, and workers had recently groomed them, and so there's more flotsam on the ground than usual. This tree of mine so splendid, as it stands alone, before its audience. Pretending to be wise before the wild ones.
The usual bird. Whose attiring and disattiring is also complicated. Taken yesterday, no snow, slight frost. A strange and unexpected winter freedom.
You set yourself tasks in life and in art, and the thing is to see them through, no matter how trivial they might seem to others. The important thing is to persist.
Below is a screen shot of the set of my recurring bird photos. I'm not sure of the 'why' of such a project, only that it reminds me to persist, to continue in whatever season, whatever weather. It reminds me of ebb and flow. That things will swing around again. That light comes, always, if you wait. Quietly, quietly. Thought at times your wings will feel like breaking from the weight of snow, brittle in the cold.