This is one of the two red maples in my backyard by the breakwall. I like the way the branches on the left seem to have caught the sun, and are holding it’s light from the rest of the sky. Of course that didn’t really stay that way - the sun moved steadily to the other side of the tree, and the whole sky went from citrine to crimson to dusky purple.
Even though I've been giving winter a hard time on this blog lately, one of my favorite poems is most definitely in praise of the season. To me, it expresses the love felt by a true specialist in melancholy.
Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away; Lengthen night and shorten day; Every leaf speaks bliss to me Fluttering from the autumn tree.
I shall smile when wreaths of snow Blossom where the rose should grow; I shall sing when night's decay Ushers in a drearier day.
Emily Jane Brontë
To view more skies from all over our beautiful planet, or to join in, visit SKYWATCH.
The Cloud Messenger (Meghadūta) is a lyric poem by the respected Indian poet, Kālidāsa. The poem centers around a yaksa in exile. Longing for his beloved, waiting for him on a Himalayan mountain, he asks a cloud to take a message to her. The sights he tells the cloud it will see on its way make up most of the poem.
The idea of recording observations appeals to me. I thought The Cloud Messenger was the perfect title for a blog about the journey that we all make as we move through our days.
I'm a baby boomer who grew up dancing in the streets of Detroit during the classic Motown years, lived beside the Rocky Mountains for many years, now retired and living (and writing full time) in S. Ontario. I have one blog for rock 'n' roll oldies, and one for nature, poetry and life along the Lake.