Thursday, February 24, 2011

Countdown Day 6: Almost Completely Black and White

This is what I saw when I looked down to the pond from the driveway on Saturday. If you look closely, you'll see the blue pump house and the little blue "bridge" over the little seasonal "creek." It's amazing how much a white sky over a snow-covered ground looks like a stark black and white photo. This is what it will probably look like on Thursday and Friday when a big storm blows in from Alaska and Canada. We think we're ready for what ever comes our way. We'll let you know.

11 comments:

  1. Thought you would like this:
    'Would-Land'

    5 AM. One-quarter past
    Distant chimes inform me this.

    A bell peal knells the mist.
    And sunlight's

    not yet bludgeoning.
    But some light gets blood going.

    Last night it was snowing
    and now

    every path's a pall.
    Through mine the only footfalls

    at this hour of awe. Above
    hangs a canopy of needle leaf.

    Below, the season's
    mean deceit----

    that everything stays
    white and clean.

    It doesn't, of course,
    but I wish it. My prayers

    are green with this intent,
    imploring winter wrens

    to trill and begging scuttling bucks
    come back.

    There's something I lack.
    A wryneck

    bullet-breaks a branch.
    His woodworm didn't have a chance.

    What I miss,
    I've never had.

    But I am not a ghost
    I am a guest.

    And life is thirst,
    at best.

    So do not strike me, Heart.
    I am, too, tinder.

    I'm flammable
    as birch bark, even damp.

    Blue spruce, bee-eater----
    be sweeter to me.

    Let larksong shudder
    to its January wheeze,

    but gift these hands a happiness
    just once.

    It is half passed.
    And I am cold.

    Another peal has tolled.
    I've told the sum of my appeals.

    I need not watch for fox.
    They do not congregate at dawn.

    But I would
    were I one.

    ( Jill Alexander Essbaum)
    peace, MandT

    ReplyDelete
  2. The black and white effect is refreshing. I like it. But lets hope you will soon be photographing new growth popping their heads out of the ground. Come on SPRING!!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. so lovely.

    we may get snow here, too! first time in 35 years -- since before i moved to the bay area.

    ReplyDelete
  4. It's coming our way, but is supposed to turn to rain quickly. Flooded basements, anyone?

    Snow on trees is truly lovely, a gift we cannot keep, so we enjoy it while we can.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I imagine you bundled up and cranking up the wood burning stove, making lots of good hot stuff to eat. Enjoy! The photo is beautiful.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I'm going with Tara's image . . . keeping toasty together.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Swell black and white imagery; such a contrast to what will arrive in no time.

    ReplyDelete
  8. I'm a lurker who has followed your wonderful blog for a fairly long time--a couple of years maybe. I followed Robin over from Patry's blog. I've been so interested in your search for the right place to live since I'm in the middle of that process myself. As I look at the pictures, especially the last month or so, I always find myself thinking that you must have found the perfect place. Like it chose you because it knew it was a part of Roger's healing process. Best wishes to you both and thanks for the blog.

    ReplyDelete