Archive for the ‘Nature’ Category

I love milkweed, seeds and pods, and their role in providing food for monarch and other butterflies.  But there’s much more to this plant.  The silky floss has good insulation properties and its fibers are used to clean up oil spills.  On the darker side, many natives in Africa and South America use the poison on the tips of their arrows, while milkweed is toxic to animals when taken in large amounts.

Often the floss of the milkweed flies in the wind, like a head of blonde hair. But in the case of the seeds I found in the park not long ago, each strand was adorned with a plethora of tiny, frosty diamonds.

Copyright janet m. webb

 

 

 

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Not everything in the park was bedecked with ice crystals. While this milkweed seed was frozen (at least temporarily) in place, its silky strands were blowing free and although it’s not a leaf, I found this quote more than apt.  Evidently, this little seed wasn’t quite ready to play.

“Come, little leaves,” said the Wind one day, “Come to the meadows with me and play. Put on your dresses of red and gold; For Summer is past, and the days grow cold.”
~George Cooper

Life has gotten rather busy lately, with extra shifts at work, Christmas preparations, and just general life things.  If I haven’t made it to your site recently, it’s not from lack of interest, just lack of time, so please forgive me.  Because I’ve been working Wednesdays, I also haven’t participated in the photo challenge for a few weeks and if you do multiple posts a day, I’m likely not to make to all of them.

I do hope each of you is having a wonderful and wonder-filled December and will come back tomorrow for another frost photo.

© janet m. webb

I’ve been having a great time sharing the frost photos that I took not long ago and I hope you’ve been enjoying them.  To see an entire park covered with diamonds of frost is to encounter a beauty too great for words and almost impossible to share even through photos.  However, I can but try.  Just imagine this times all the leaves on the ground and you might have a glimpse of what I mean and saw.   Perhaps your heart will be as full as mine was.

December’s wintery breath is already clouding the pond, frosting the pane, obscuring summer’s memory…
~John Geddes

© janet m. webb

What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?
~John Steinbeck–Travels with Charley: In Search of America

© janet m. webb

I love finding the small beauties in the world and then photographing them. It’s too easy to see the big picture yet miss the individual pieces that make up that picture.  The park is full of these gems, in this case, gems made of ice.  However, I, unlike Stevie, don’t keep my visions to myself.  I share them with you!

Now here I go again, I see the crystal visions
Dreams, Stevie Nicks

© janet m. webb

I am grateful for the silence of winter mornings, for the beauty and wonder of the glint of sunlight in frost melting to dew, for the early-riser’s peaceful solitude that sets a mood of thankfulness, hope, and calm for the dawning day.
~Terri Guillemets

Last week I finally got back to the park which, by itself, is a wonderful thing. But the second morning, Nikon in hand and phone in fanny pack, I found myself in a world edged with frost. I staggered from place to place, drunk on beauty, stopping constantly, crouching down, switching cameras, sometimes sitting on the path to get a closer shot…unless I was using my Nikon, in which case, because I had my telephoto, I had to take close-ups from about six feet away. The sun created sparkling, multi-colored diamonds in the grass and my heart was full.

But frost, like the crystallized dreams of autumn, began to coat the clearing with its sugar glaze.”
― Victoria Steele Logue, Redemption

© janet m. webb

I’d never heard of this poem before.  But I came across it while searching for quotes about frost and fell in love with it.

Dream of the Tundra Swan

Dusk fell
and the cold came creeping,
came prickling into our hearts.
As we tucked beaks
into feathers and settled for sleep,
our wings knew.

That night, we dreamed the journey:
ice-blue sky and the yodel of flight,
the sun’s pale wafer,
the crisp drink of clouds.
We dreamed ourselves so far aloft
that the earth curved beneath us
and nothing sang but
a whistling vee of light.

When we woke, we were covered with snow.
We rose in a billow of white.”
― Joyce Sidman, Winter Bees & Other Poems of the Cold