Along fields sewn on hilltops, sentinels of valleys lined by houses, families nestled in womb curves. Up the hill of Stockemstraat to the lane between fields, and then the forest and field. Long grass saturated with dew, fat drops on wide blades, orbish cobwebs between strands of grass. And the silver ladies wrapped in ivy gowns drink the morning nectar. The silver ladies dance, roots stretching within the earth, boughs embracing the wind and squirrels, and the ravens kiss their bark with talons. In the fields crows search the turned soil, seeds softly sit beneath the black. And the sun greets the silver ladies, light glistens their skin scarred by felled limbs. It is autumn and the fire’s colors clothe the leaves even as each day shortens, each night cools. It is autumn and the wind sighs long for the year has passed and another begins.
(lightly edited journal excerpt from 3 November 2009)
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Beautiful pictures! I love them all!!! Well put! “And the Ravens kiss their bark with talons.” What a poet you truely are. I know I will be inspired by your work to be more creative, I already am. I’m thinking about getting my own camera, your a great photographer. What a perfect ending to the Autumn Equinox and to the beginning of the Winter Solstice. How so very true. Melissa, you must have heard the Angels whispering
and wrote down every word.
Well done! Well done!