The riddle of snow

From Heaven I fall, though from Earth I begin.

No lady alive can show such skin.

I'm bright as an angel, and light as a feather,

But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together.

From:  A Riddle - On Snow

By:  James Parton

Succumbing to love

Fierce as lightning

Piercing through swiftly

The cold one trembles

Succumbing to love

Winter's chill

My little pond lies silent, still;

Sealed in tight by winter's chill.

Just hang on!

I think I've discovered the secret to life:

It's really about just hanging on.

Cold as Ice

Mirrors are ice

which do not melt:

What melts

are those

who admire themselves

in them.

~ Paul Morand ~

Dreaming

February is a dreamy month for me because I need to escape from it.  The sky is grey and the temperature outside has warmed up enough to expose the yellows and browns in the snow left on our yards.  Definitely not an attractive month for Mother Nature; maybe that is why it is the shortest month of the year.

When I come across photos from last summer, in this case I'm comparing our swimming pool today (above) and six months ago (below)...  I realize that February is necessary.  It's "the month of doing without," that allows me to appreciate everything I would otherwise take for granted.

All My Love

(And Valentine Week has come to an end.  We will now resume with the last bit of February, the Month of Grey, the last step before we arrive at Spring.)

A hundred hearts would be too few

To carry all my love for you.

Author Unknown

Choose Love

When in doubt, choose Love.

How does love speak?

How does love speak?

In the faint flush upon the tell-tale cheek,

And the pallor that succeeds it;

By the uneven heart-throbs, and the freak 

Of bounding pulses that stand still and ache...

Thus doth love speak.

From:  How Does Love Speak?

By:  Ella Wilcox

Sweethearts

"Grow old with me, the best is yet to be."

Robert Browning

Valentine

My heart to you is given:

Oh, do give yours to me;

We'll lock them up together,

And throw away the key.

Frederick Saunders

It's a week of LOVE

In honour of Valentine's Day my blog is going to show Red and Pink (flowers, of course) for the whole week!

Love puts the fun in together,

The sad in apart,

And the joy in a heart.

Anonymous

Slush and grossness

The snow begins to melt, a sure sign that spring can't be far behind.

Unfortunately,

without a fresh snowfall

we begin to see other,

less pleasant signs of spring.

These

are the days

of slush

and

grossness.

Nature goes

grunge!

What do you see?

I always enjoy looking at things from different angles.

I went underneath this fir tree in my backyard to see it from the point of view of a squirrel on its way up.

This is what came to mind.

What do you see?

Pretty enough to eat

"I think it must be good, Mama,

Therefore I'll have a treat,

For if its look so pretty be,

It must be good to eat."

"Ah! Dearest child," Mama replied,

"Thou dost not seem aware,

That many a gilded bait without

Conceals an inward snare.

Those ruby clusters there, that rise

And catch thy longing eye,

Are like the fruit of ancient date,

But eat, and thou shalt die."

Poem from: http://www.archive.org/stream/crocuscontaining00mjemiala/crocuscontaining00mjemiala_djvu.txt

Transformation

What a difference 6 months can make...

I envy nature's ability to

transform and reinvent herself

on a daily basis.

Bitter Berries

I was angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears;

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft, deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine.

And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole

When the night had veiled the pole;

In the morning glad I see

My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

A Poison Tree   By: William Blake

Monday Morning

Monday morning in the month of February.

Yes, it is cold.

Yes, everything is frozen
And covered with a layer of ice and snow.

Yes, we are months away from being able to
Feel the heat of the sun and
Feast our eyes on the colour GREEN.

So, I went in search of a photo of one of my favourite sunflowers,

And I'm sending you a Monday morning
So bright,

So beautiful,

That you'll need your sunglasses on to view it!

A different kind of white

In the middle of summer, when it's hot and the garden is full of colour, my white flowers make me think of the snow that is going to appear on the other side of the calendar.














Silly of me to think that.  The white of winter, so cold, silent, and lifeless, has nothing in common with summer.

Graver of frost

What heart could have thought you?

Fashioned so purely,

Fragiley,

Surely.

He hammered,

He wrought me,

From curled silver vapor,

So purely,

So palely,

Tinily, surely,

Mightily, frailly.

Sculpted

and embossed,

With His

Hammer of wind,

And His

Graver of frost.

From: To A Snowflake

By: Francis Thompson