These dried leaves held together against the wind and temperature changes of fall-into-winter.
Without distracting myself with research to identify this plant, I want to sense it through the photograph.
The leaves are not summer green but brown with aged cell walls. Before the days shortened, fingertips could have felt the transformation of rain absorbed through roots and pulled upward into firm outstretched greenery.
Can you feel the chilly breeze dry your hand as it reaches out to touch the curls? Can you smell the damp moulder of meadow plants soggy in the snow? Can you hear the raspy crackle of the ringlets of leaves, one against another, barely able to be heard over the wind?
From another angle, the dancing leaves.
Look closer at the soft furry surface in the sun. Feel warmth on old bones.
Look even closer and see the seed fluff from another plant hooked on those furry edges. Caught temporarily, it will either blow away again in a stronger wind, be washed down by melting snow, or wait further andsprout when this plant falls to the ground.
What would it be like to rest, like this tiny seed, nestled in softness?
Waterfalls in the gorge at the Plotter Kill Preserve, Rotterdam, NY
Before high winds in the afternoon–and between bitter temperatures the day before and after–we raced out. It had been three years since I’d wrestled on my snowshoes and gotten to trod on piles of snow.
Along the Red Path above the creek, under the dark trees and before more snow fell in the afternoon.
Only deer and squirrels had gone before us.
January hemlocks hang over the Plotter Kill (Creek), a tributary of the Mohawk River.
A sparkle blast of sun on seeds–just what we need in the gray winter days.
That’s a brave thing, to start with “Part 1,” especially after not posting for two weeks due to a nasty head cold and some computer issues (neither of which is quite resolved, but getting there).
I like the idea of mixing senses: to take vision and see what we can “feel.” Can your fingers sense the softness of seeds, the velvet or raspy texture of dried leaves–just through looking at pictures? Can you hear the light crunch as you press them between your fingers and smell the late fall moulder in them? What memories come up when you do that?
Dried and curled in head of Queen Anne’s Lace (wild carrot), Vischer Ferry Preserve
Happy New Year, and thanks for your patience. Over the week, ignore any judgment you’ve heard on the winter weather and step outdoors. Take in what your senses gift you. What did you find? (Feel free to click on the Leave A Reply button and share.)