It was such a beautiful evening, after a very chilly day. I stood on the rise in my back yard looking across into the woods and thought how inspiring the woods becomes at dusk. As the light played on the trees, changes occured right before my eyes. The following poem shares some of my thoughts and feelings.
Dusk… blushes every tall tree with the sun’s glow
Cold December air gently caresses my face
as I stand staring into the darkening woods
Birds twitter… huddling together in the cedars
Rabbits burrow down under the blackberry bushes
on a cozy bed of brown leaves
the sky dims
Golden shades turn to gray… then black
Dusk in the woods can be a spiritual experience
As all of God’s creation rests in quiet slumber
I took this photo with my iPhone this evening, after taking a walk on the gas line right-of-way behind our house.
This past week I noticed that my daffodils were beginning to push up through the ground. I have never seen this in November. Sometimes they show through in February, but never in the Fall. Trees have now set their buds and wait through the long winter for a new Spring. As I think about all that has taken place this week, with the election and the projected change in our country’s leadership, I thought this might be a good poem to reflect upon.
The squirrel plays percussion with his raspy scolding
As the woods fills with music the finale’s unfolding
A thunderous applause from the balcony on high
Brings all to their feet flashes crossing the sky
The concert is over the conductor’s gone home
Performers take bows the music is gone
Painting: Dwight L. Roth
This is a painting and poem are from a few years ago. I wrote this as I sat under the trees listening to all that was going on above me. I love the idea of the birds and animals creating an orchestral piece brought on by the neighbors cat!
Back in the 1980s our family visited this old mill near Spring Hope, NC. Built along the Tar River, it was no longer in use, but remains a very stately building complex. For many years, it was the center of activity for the town. as farmers brought their grain to be ground. Now it sits idle and in recent years has begun deteriorate badly.
Grinding stones frozen in time
River never stops
Finding resistance in rocks
being shaped in riverbed
Mill remains still
Dying a peaceful death
in trees’ embrace
As we were leaving the ocean, returning to our car, I noticed this huge log lying next to the pathway. It appeared to be two feet in diameter. What caught my eye were the marks on the end of the log. It was not cut down by a chain saw, but rather one bite at a time with an ax! That would take a real man (a Paul Bunyan type) to chip away enough to take the tree down. It must have been a rewarding thing for him to see the top of that tree sway, and then come crashing to the ground. Thankfully, trees are one of our renewable resources.