Gratitude, Mandala Series, Minneapolis, Minnesota, November 2016, photo © 2016 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
Archive for the ‘Seasons’ Category
Posted in Art, Gratitude, Holidays, Mandalas, Personal, Practice, Seasons, Silence, Spirituality, Structure, tagged creating mandalas, end of the year rituals, giving thanks, inspiration, making a Gratitude List, seasonal rituals, Thanksgiving, the practice of gratitude on November 28, 2016 | Leave a Comment »
Posted in Animals & Critters, Gratitude, Holding My Breath, Nature, Place, Seasons, Skies, Things That Fly, tagged autumn in Minnesota, nature as muse, recording nature, sandhill crane migration, sandhill cranes, Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge, sunsets, video of sandhill cranes on November 5, 2016 | 3 Comments »
Sandhill Crane Migration, October 2016, iPhone Video, Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge, Santiago, Minnesota, October 2016, photo © 2016 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
Years ago I traveled to a blind near the Platte River in Nebraska to see the sandhill crane migration. And on another road trip through North Dakota, I witnessed The World’s Largest Sandhill Crane. A few weeks ago, I drove just outside of Zimmerman to view the cranes again at the Sherburne National Wildlife Refuge in my homestate of Minnesota (go to the link to download a crane viewing map). By the middle of October, the refuge hosts more than 6000 cranes as they roost at night in refuge wetlands, then fly out to area croplands to forage during the day.
Part of the thrill of the migrating sandhill cranes is hearing their collective call and recognizing that some studies date their DNA back to the dinosaurs. For more information about the evolution of the sandhill cranes in Minnesota visit The Resilience of Sandhill Cranes, Once common here, then rare, this native bird has returned to Minnesota by Carrol Henderson.
-posted on red Ravine, Saturday, November 5th, 2016
January, Droid Shots, St.Paul, Minnesota, January 2016, photo © 2016 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
Posted in 13 Moons, Haiku, Nature, On the Road, Place, Practice, Seasons, Travel, tagged Dhobi Tree, Enid A. Haupt Garden, Mussaenda frondosa, promise of Spring, Smithsonian Gardens, spring equinox, The Castle, the practice of poetry, Washington D.C. on March 22, 2015 | Leave a Comment »
Bloom On The Dhobi Tree, Droid Shots, Washington, D.C., June 2014, photos © 2014 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.
eclipsed by the dark
side of the moon
Spring arrived under a New Moon and Total Solar Eclipse fanfare, in spite of March with her gray skies and flurries. Snow has melted from the Twin Cities landscape, leaving behind a patchwork of late winter beige and timid green. Anxious for spring color, I revisited photographs from a June walk in the Enid A. Haupt Garden outside the Smithsonian Castle. It was the first time I had seen a Dhobi Tree and it was in full bloom.
The Dhobi Tree (Mussaenda frondosa) is pollinated by butterflies attracted by a modified leaf growing at the base of the flowers. The plant grows wild in India and is part of the Rubiaceae Family which also includes Coffee and Gardenias. I am grateful for urban green space, a refuge and remembrance that every city was once a wild place.
-posted on red Ravine, Sunday, March 22nd, 2015
-Part of a yearly practice to write a short form piece of poetry in a Moleskine journal once a day for the next year. Related to post: haiku 4 (one a day) Meets renga 52
Posted in 13 Moons, Animals & Critters, Bones, Haiku, Photography, Place, Practice, Seasons, Wake Up, Writing Practices, tagged daily practices, fire, fox, haiga, nature as muse, the practice of poetry on March 8, 2015 | 2 Comments »
We sat in a circle around a ring of snow, inside a ring of stones, inside a ring of kindling. It was damp outside. The moon rose in a foggy black and white photo over the house to the east. The fire felt good on my bones. After a while, my feet got cold but it didn’t seem to bother me. I saw something hop and trot, then stop. Is that a fox? I said. It is, it’s coming our way. The fox stared and came right for us. It walked close to the fire, headed to the next yard, and circled back. Susan said she had put out a lamb shank earlier in the day. The fox must have smelled it. The shank was gone. The fox came close to the spot where it had been and dug up a bone out of the snow, crunched on it. The fox was small and petite. A month or so ago, I saw a fox at Lake Como near the Conservatory over lunch. I watched it for a good fifteen minutes before it disappeared into a grove of trees. After the petite fox left, we saw another fox out on the pond in the distance. Then we heard them barking to each other across the ponds that are Twin Lakes.
-haiga & excerpt from today’s writing practice posted on redRavine, Sunday, March 8th, 2015
-Part of a yearly practice to write a short form piece of poetry in my Moleskine journal once a day for the next year. Related to post: haiku 4 (one a day) Meets renga 52