Nothing captures our imagination more than the idea of nature spirits. Stories about them are found in every tradition upon the planet, and they never fail to touch us in some way. The truth is that most of us have had amazing nature spirit encounters, but we have either forgotten them, didn’t realize what they were at the time or allowed others to convince us that they weren’t real. But the truth is that Nature is one of the most powerful realms of spirit contact and guidance available to us. ~ Ted Andrews (The Intercession of Spirits)
11.10.20 ~ foggy morning outside my kitchen window dwarf river birch leaves in autumn
Latest statistics: New London County now has 4,668 confirmed cases of COVID-19. Of those, 33 people are currently in the hospital and 155 have lost their lives. That’s 1,212 new cases since October 24 when I last reported.
Connecticut’s positive test rate is now 6.4%. (It was 2.9% on October 24.)
Is your caravan lost?
It is, If you no longer weep from gratitude or happiness, Or weep From being cut deep with the awareness Of the extraordinary beauty That emanates from the most simple act And common object.
~ Hafiz (Someone Untied Your Camel)
looking forward to ‘finding my caravan’ again soon…
11.10.20 ~ last three pictures taken in Colonel Ledyard Cemetery, Groton, Connecticut
10.24.20 ~ Connecticut College Arboretum New London, Connecticut
Autumn that year painted the countryside in vivid shades of scarlet, saffron, and russet, and the days were clear and crisp under the harvest skies. ~ Sharon Kay Penman (Time & Chance)
a copper and butterscotch harvest
The Connecticut College Arboretum Facebook page invited us over to check out the fall colors in all their glory. We were not disappointed! I had been reluctant to visit because New London was a designated coronavirus “red alert town” but now that Groton is, too, we decided we didn’t have much to lose.
black oak
One very nice feature of an arboretum is that many of the trees have identification tags on them.
fringe tree
In June, the above fringe tree has spectacular white fringe-like blossoms. (Janet may remember them!) To see a picture scroll down to the last few pictures on this post: late spring in the woods.
sweet gum
tulip tree
a maple (no tag)
But autumn leaves have another than their natural history — like autumn sunshine they have merits that concern the rambler, who cares not a fig for their botanical significance — what may be called their sentimental history. ~ Charles Conrad Abbott (Days Out of Doors)
russet majesty
grove on top of a hill
evidence of the severe drought in the pond
scarlet tree growing out of rock in the middle of the pond
glacial erratic framed in saffron
(probably) ruby slippers hydrangea spent blossoms
(probably) ruby slippers hydrangea leaves thanks to Melissa for help with identification
we got a little bit lost in there
heritage river birch
This might be my favorite tree in the whole arboretum. It is so tall there is no way I could get a picture of all of it. The texture of the bark is a pleasure to behold. The trunk splits in two and the view between them is spectacular. I love its energy. I have a dwarf river birch in my garden. It’s not nearly as tall.
looking up
looking out over the arboretum
We had walked for over an hour and I came home finally feeling satisfied that I hadn’t missed anything this autumn had to offer. 🙂
Such is the Force of Happiness — The Least — can lift a ton Assisted by it’s stimulus —
Who Misery — sustain — No Sinew can afford — The Cargo of Themselves — Too infinite for Consciousness’ Slow capabilities —
~ Emily Dickinson (The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #889)
5.17.19 ~ new leaves of our dwarf river birch
We planted this tree in our garden in the spring of 2014 and it has brought me so much happiness. Especially in this season, when the leaves come in and start competing with the bark curls for visual interest. When I open my kitchen shades each morning and see more and more green ~ pure joy. In summer it protects the kitchen windows from the harshest afternoon sun.
Yes, happiness is uplifting, and misery weighs us down, too heavy, impossible to carry alone. Grieving a loss is often a slow process, and might last a lifetime.
I count having the company of this tree as one of my many blessings.
Morning light in Flåm, Norway, looking off the balcony of our hotel room. (above) Morning is my favorite time of day and this particular morning we did not have to rush off to catch a train or a ferry or a bus so we could enjoy a a few leisurely hours in the village before our next adventure.
good morning! ~ friendly little curious female house sparrow
later on we would cross this bridge on a bus to get to a long tunnel to Gudvangen
it didn’t take me long to find a few gulls
entrance to Ægir Brewery & Pub, where we had dinner the night before
wood carvings in a dead tree near our hotel
so many lovely birch trees
Ægir Brewery & Pub ~ it’s only open for dinner
Flåmsbrygga Hotel, the warmth of knotty pine floors and doors
Ægir Brewery, sign above entrance
Tim on a little stone seat sticking out of the wall of the Flåmstova Restaurant
wall in the Flåmstova Restaurant, where we had breakfast
ceiling in the Flåmstova Restaurant
While we were eating breakfast by a picture window, enjoying the view of garden, fjord and mountain, a cruise ship very slowly pulled into port! Then we could barely see the mountain over the top of it! Cruise ships are amazingly large – Flåm was such a tiny port I am sure it couldn’t possibly accommodate more than one of them at a time.
I still can’t get over how it was spring on the fjord and winter in the mountains
there was a hiking path up through the farms hugging the side of the mountain
wish we had time to hike up there, but the zoom lens came in handy to capture this scene
We boarded a small bus to take us through the mountains to Gudvangen. This is the entrance to Flenja Tunnel (above) which is 5,053m long. (16,578′). We came out of it for only 500m (1,640′) before entering Gudvanga Tunnel, which is 11,428m (7.1 mi) long, Norway’s second longest road tunnel.
Next stop: Ferry ride on Nærøyfjord from Gudvangen back to Flåm.
scenery on the road between Skien and Notodden, Norway
more scenery
one of countless food storage houses (stabbur) we saw everywhere
when I dream of Norway I see many birch trees
Heddal Stave Church in Notodden
memorial to Olea Crøger
Olea Crøger (1801-1855) was the daughter of a pastor from Heddal Stave Church, known for collecting Norwegian folk music and folklore.
the church was dedicated to the Virgin Mary in 1242
on a headstone in the churchyard
in the cemetery
the west side of the church, and main entrance
altarpiece
After the Reformation alterations to the church were slowly made. The date of the painting showing the crucifixion of Jesus by an unknown artist is 1667. The one above it, of Christ rising from his tomb, was painted by Lars Osa about 1908.
above the altar
The Heddal portals are a mixture of fauna and floral ornamentation. The western portal is dominated by leaf carvings but the vines transform into snake shapes with poisonous heads. Other animal bodies can also be seen. … These motifs were renown in Norse religion and superstition but were reinterpreted in Christian art. They did of course provide a sense of familiarity for churchgoers who found it difficult to let go of their old heathen faith. At the same time these wild depictions became a symbol of the battle between good and evil in the world. This was a central topic both in the new and old faith.
~ Heddal Stavechurch guidebook
I noticed that most of the columns inside the church had a simple carving at the bottom of the arches, but on either side of the southern entrance portal columns there was a carving of a creature of some sort (above). In the picture below you can see the simple carvings of three oval leaves (?) on the bottom of the arches, about the same level as the lights.
So I asked the docent about it. She explained that men used to enter the church from the southern portal and were thought to be more likely to bring corruption into the church, so the gargoyle was needed to scare off the evil. The women, on the other hand, used the northern portal and were already protected by the Virgin Mary.
based on “Soria Moria Castle” by Theodor Kittelsen
It was chilly that day and we appreciated a cup of hot cocoa in the visitor center. I was delighted to find these copies of paintings on the backs of a couple of chairs. I’ve been using Theodor Kittelsen’s calendar art in my posts on the 15th of each month since August.
based on “White Bear King Valemon” by Theodor Kittelsen
How lovely trees are. The human species grew up in and around them. We have a natural affinity for trees. … We human beings don’t look very much like a tree. We certainly view the world differently than a tree does. But down deep, at the molecular heart of life we’re essentially identical to trees.
~ Carl Sagan
(Cosmos)
When a man plants a tree, he plants himself. Every root is an anchor, over which he rests with grateful interest, and becomes sufficiently calm to feel the joy of living.
~ John Muir
(Steep Trails)
A tree is a self: it is unseen shaping more than it is leaves or bark, roots or cellulose or fruit. … We can not point to anything physical and say, “There is the self!” This holds for the tree’s activity as well as for the human’s. What it means is that we must address trees. We must address all things, confronting them in the awareness that we are in the presence of numinous mystery. Who shapes the tree? Who shapes my thoughts? We are in the mystery of the self.
~ Brian Swimme
(The Universe Is a Green Dragon: A Cosmic Creation Story)
The time of the falling of leaves has come again. Once more in our morning walk we tread upon carpets of gold and crimson, of brown and bronze, woven by the winds or the rains out of these delicate textures while we slept.
How beautifully leaves grow old! How full of light and color are their last days!
I frequently tramped eight or ten miles through the deepest snow to keep an appointment with a beech tree, or a yellow birch, or an old acquaintance among the pines.
~ Henry David Thoreau
(Walden)
Oh! where do fairies hide their heads, When snow lies on the hills? When frost has spoiled their mossy beds, And crystallized their rills: Beneath the moon they cannot trip In circles o’er the plain: And draughts of dew they cannot sip, Till green leaves come again.
~ Thomas Haynes Bayly
(Songs & Ballads, Grave & Gay)
