travels, reflections, poems….
Richard J. WellerRichard J. Weller, ASLA, is the Meyerson Chair of Urbanism and Professor and Chair of landscape architecture and Executive Director of the McHarg Center at The University of Pennsylvania. He is author of seven books, including the forthcoming The Landscape Project, a collection of essays by the faculty at the Weitzman School of…
Earth Day Interview with Richard Weller: A Hopeful Vision for Global Conservation — THE DIRT
Monet, could have traveled, from Giverny, to paint Arizona’s Superstition Mountains. The place is an impressionistic, dream. Cheers to you from The Superstitions~
Superstitions~ —
imbued by light, and shadow. Water reflects pastel hues. Faces form in the rocks, and vanish in the shadows. Light is fleeting here, defined by shadow. Cheers to you from ethereal Sedona Arizona~
Red Rock & Sand~ —
Tourists visiting Tāne Mahuta, the largest known kauri tree, in Waipoua Forest in New Zealand. The tree is named for a god in Māori mythology. Ruth Mcdowall for The New York Times A former kauri ambassador blowing a conch shell near Tāne Mahuta. There’s hope among advocates that Māori-led interventions have created enough time for […]
Maori Tree-Saving — Organikos
We all need images of peaceful natural beauty these violent and cruel days. Native California White Iris grow along The Rhododendron Trail in Redwood National Park in Northern California. Douglas Iris bloom in profusion here as well. The trail is named for the wild rhododendron that are everywhere along the trail. Asiatic Lilies thrive in […]
Wild Iris & Lily~ —
Diana Beresford-Kroeger at her home in Ontario. “If you build back the forests, you oxygenate the atmosphere more, and it buys us time,” she said. Nasuna Stuart-Ulin for The New York Times Another round of thanks to Cara Buckley for a vividly written snapshot. Using Science and Celtic Wisdom to Save Trees (and Souls) is […]
The Wondrous Capabilities Of Trees — Organikos
So, as they used to say,
The sons of the Early One
Made the sea and the sky –
Why
No one knew,
And, with the hint of a smile,
By the night’s melody,
They made even all the winds that ran, playing,
Along the shore.
But after a long while,
Things needed a shuffle – a toss or a turn,
So, they brought about a long churn
Of the sea – and the rain
Fell, then all curled up
Like the crinkles of a leaf in the fall,
And the Wakeful One closed both His eyes
And slept and will waken again one day
To a whippoorwill’s call,
Or the pinyon jays’ cries,
But the most ancient Holy One, beyond the beginning,
Is always, in the sleeping and the awakening,
Within and beyond the day and the night
Of Evermore.
After a while though, when no one was looking
The dragon of yore
Crept
Up onto the earth and arose again,
He who believed in nothing at all,
And stalked the whole land –
Shredding
And tearing,
Causing hurt and howling too
With a horrible hiss,
Over the smoking sea,
Scattering the sand,
Until he tumbled into the dark Abyss,
And fell down, down
And then soon
After, there was peace
For the startled curlew,
So, all the big ones and the little ones and the long sea, rolling
All closed their eyes and slept
In the comfort, deep blue,
Of the dark for a while,
Till stars sailed adrift in the ever-wandering skies,
Over the lake of the softly singing, glad-winged geese,
In their feathered gown,
While the gold cup
Of the moon
Went sailing on in her cloud-ringed light
Along the bright rim of the brave sky.
**
By Sharon St Joan
© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2022
Mist-ringed towers drifting
And the snow petal
Remember the forest Gods
From long before
Who ruled all lands then.
It was exactly
Very, very long ago
When
The rains buffeted
The clouds in the sky
And much has happened since –
Betrayal,
Forgetting,
Diminishing,
Lessening.
The bitter knife of the wind prods
The memory;
Only the great-horned owl recalls,
And his friends.
Those Gods have gone to far worlds – away
And often hid,
To universes little known –
And yet they are not far,
Still here, alone,
While winds obey,
Because there are no moments now,
No distance,
No separation,
No illusion,
Only the reality,
Only the howl, laughing,
Of the coyote
Whose fur shines white in the moonlight,
Whose awareness is keen,
Like the eyes of the star.
Perceptions of snow –
Past worlds, wooded, green
The one true past is here now –
In the pinecone
That whistles in the January
Wind and in the juncos and white-crowned sparrows,
Who hop within the whiffs
Of the snow flurry,
In the winds of gold that fly
From the setting sun that falls
Behind the cliffs.
Gone now, the noble cow,
Wandering home in the mists,
Eternal mists of snow,
Of times that were and are
And are again to be
When the Gods guard the way,
To protect the sacred, snow-enchanted day
In the deep forests,
Now and yet again and evermore.
***
By Sharon St Joan
© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2022
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The god Tatenen (Ta-tenen), whose name means “risen land” or “exalted earth,” represents the Earth and was born the moment the primeval mound, benben, rose from the waters of chaos. He also symbolizes the emergence of silt from the fertile Nile after the waters of the inundation recede. Tatenen was the god of vegetation, the […]
Tatenen, the Exalted Earth God — Iseum Sanctuary
