All photos are mine unless otherwise noted.
To see images full screen click on any photo.
This is a short blog word wise as our grand daughter Maddie and her parents, Rudy and Bridget are here for the week. Things are busy.
Last weekend we went to New Hampshire along the Kancamagus Highway where winter still had some grip on the land. Hoping for a rushing river swelled by the Spring runoff we were disappointed as the water was low. Still the area has great beauty and is worth a trip in any Season.
The first seven images are of New Hampshire taken along the Kancamagus. The girl by the column was taken at the grand hotel just south of Crawford Notch where we stopped for tea. The last two photos are of the Spring run off here in Maine.
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A poem in praise of the earth by John O'Donahue -
- In Praise Of The Earth –
The
imagination of the Earth
That
knew early the patience
To
harness the mind of time,
Waited
for the seas to warm,
Ready
to welcome the emergence
Among
the stillness of land.
Of
things dreaming of voyaging
And
the light knew to nurse
The
growth until the face of the Earth
Brightened
beneath a vision of color.
When
the ages of ice came
And
sealed the earth inside
An
endless coma of cold,
The
heart of the Earth held hope,
Storing
fragments of memory,
Ready
for the return of the sun.
Let
us thank the Earth
That
offers ground for home
And
holds our feet firm
To
walk in space open
To
infinite galaxies.
Let
us salute the silence
And
certainty of mountains:
Their
sublime stillness,
Their
dream-filled hearts.
The
wonder of a garden
Trusting
the first warmth of Spring
Until
its black infinity of cells
Becomes
charged with dream;
Then
the silent slow nurture
Of
the seeds self, coaxing it
The
trust the act of death.
The
humility of the Earth
That
transfigures all
That
has fallen
Of
outlived growth.
The
kindness of the Earth
Opening
to receive
Our
worn forms
Into
the final stillness.
Let
us ask forgiveness of the Earth
For
all our sins against her:
For
our violence and poisonings
Of
her beauty.
Let
us remember within us
The
ancient clay,
Holding
the memory of seasons,
The
passion of the wind,
The
fluency of water,
The
warmth of fire,
The
quiver touch of the sun
And
shadowed sureness of the moon.
That
we may awaken,
To
live to the full
The
dream of the Earth
Who
chose us to emerge
And
incarnate its hidden night
In
mind, spirit, and light.
John O'Donohue
From: A Book Of Blessings
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Peace until next post,
Bill Lagerstrom
