Tag Archives: winter pond

Sunday Scenes – December 2, 2012

from the backyard

I enjoy ponds, no matter where I wander, a pond always brings a smile to my face. The seasons change, summer turns to autumn, the trees drop their leaves.


The outdoor cold of winter might not be quite at a freezing level (not cold enough for a pond to freeze over), and yet, a pond leaves me with a sense of warmth in the crisp chill of the morning, as I walk.

Zen Moment

Spring returns, and with it the lush greenness illuminates the landscape. Lily pads delicately float within a Zen setting, and a bridge hovers over them, as the glide in slow motion. I enjoy visiting this place of sanctuary, enjoy the moments of quietude.

As I browsed poetry sites, I found Poetry Chaikhana, and came upon this lovely poem entitled The Ponds, by Mary Oliver. You can read more about her, here.

Every year
the lilies
are so perfect
I can hardly believe

their lapped light crowding
the black,
mid-summer ponds.
Nobody could count all of them —

the muskrats swimming
among the pads and the grasses
can reach out
their muscular arms and touch

only so many, they are that
rife and wild.
But what in this world
is perfect?

I bend closer and see
how this one is clearly lopsided —
and that one wears an orange blight —
and this one is a glossy cheek

half nibbled away —
and that one is a slumped purse
full of its own
unstoppable decay.

Still, what I want in my life
is to be willing
to be dazzled —
to cast aside the weight of facts

and maybe even
to float a little
above this difficult world.
I want to believe I am looking

into the white fire of a great mystery.
I want to believe that the imperfections are nothing —
that the light is everything — that it is more than the sum
of each flawed blossom rising and fading. And I do.


Filed under Photography