dew – In the Woods

a long garden stroll

9.23.24 ~ Sarah P. Duke Gardens
Durham, North Carolina

One warm, humid, and lovely midday, we spent a couple of hours meandering around this botanical garden with our son-in-law’s parents, who were down here for the week of Katherine’s birthday. What an amazing time we all had! The last time I had visited Duke Gardens was in 2014, ten years ago, when Larisa & Dima were living in Durham.

There are 5 miles of pathways through this 55 acre garden so there was no way to see it all. We started with the historic curated terrace gardens. There were all kinds of bees visiting the many flowers still blooming.

Tim spotted the little lizard on a leaf and we all started jockeying to get a good picture of it. We couldn’t figure out what it had in its mouth and it seemed just as curious about what we were doing.

trying to bloom where it found itself planted

There was a large patch of wild petunias with bees going in and out of each blossom, acting as if there was no more pollen to be had. Apparently these are also a favorite of the hummingbirds, too.

the tiny leaves on this tree made it look like lace

looking out over the fish pool to the Italianate-style Terrace Gardens

After enjoying the view from the overlook we followed a path to the 18-acre Asiatic Arboretum.

fiery skipper on stonecrop (sedum mini joy)

This very beautiful Ruddy Shelduck from Asia is not native here and because its wings are clipped it cannot fly, which I find upsetting. I’m not going to count it as a life bird because in essence it is living in captivity.

And soon we found ourselves in the Kathleen Smith Moss Garden, which felt very cool and woodsy.

When we decided to head back to the parking lot we got a little lost but eventually found our way. I hope someday we will go back soon and see the Garden of Native Plants. In the days following our visit we got to go see Finn perform in his Taekwondo class, and the whole family went out for a sushi birthday dinner for Katherine.

This is the first post I’m writing from my new laptop. Whatever version of Windows I had on the old one will no longer be “supported,” whatever that means, so my computer wizard has been setting me up with my new friend here. So far, so good. He had to purchase an updated version of Adobe Photoshop but I have been adjusting to the changes quite well. My old laptop lasted me for over nine years. I hope that’s considered a good run.

harvest’s song

She’ll come at dusky first of day,
White over yellow harvest’s song.
Upon her dewy rainbow way
She shall be beautiful and strong.
The lidless eye of noon shall spray
Tan on her ankles in the hay,
Shall kiss her brown the whole day long.

I’ll know her in the windrows, tall
Above the crickets of the hay.
I’ll know her when her odd eyes fall,
One May-blue, one November-grey.
I’ll watch her from the red barn wall
Take down her rusty scythe, and call,
And I will follow her away.

~ Francis Ledwidge
(August)

after dinner light

“Picking Honeysuckle”
by Sophie Gengembre Anderson

Morning — is the place for Dew —
Corn — is made at Noon —
After dinner light — for flowers —
Dukes — for setting sun!
~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #223)

to dew her orbs upon the green

And I serve the fairy queen,
To dew her orbs upon the green:
The cowslips tall her pensioners be;
In their gold coats spots you see;
Those be rubies, fairy favours,
In those freckles live their savours:
I must go seek some dew-drops here,
And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.
~ William Shakespeare
(A Midsummer Night’s Dream)

6.26.19 ~ cedar waxwing enjoying a mulberry

6.26.19 ~ dragonfly landing on dewy grass

We had a very wet spring and so far it’s looking to be a wet summer, too. Tuesday we got two inches of rain! It rained all day and I enjoyed many hours of family history research. But Wednesday we emerged from our den and took a walk in the very wet woods. And we saw several cedar waxwings, a new bird for us!

6.26.19 ~ ferns covering a bubbling brook

As I approached this tree I was trying to figure out if it might be a shagbark hickory. (Still not sure…) And then a new experience for me: orbs appeared in the viewfinder when I went to take a picture! In the past, orbs have been an occasional surprise when they show up in pictures downloaded from the camera. But these were there before I even took the picture.

6.26.19 ~ more magic, sunlight highlighting a stone covered in lichen

In the span of centuries the rock became glazed with a gray-green crust of lichen almost indistinguishable from the rock itself, a bare coating of life.
~ Robin Wall Kimmerer
(Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge & The Teachings of Plants)

These trees and stones are audible to me,
These idle flowers, that tremble in the wind,
I understand their faery syllables,
And all their sad significance.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
(Collected Poems of Ralph Waldo Emerson 1823-1911)

summer solstice

Bloom — is Result — to meet a Flower
And casually glance
Would cause one scarcely to suspect
The minor Circumstance

Assisting in the Bright Affair
So intricately done
Then offered as a Butterfly
To the Meridian —

To pack the Bud — oppose the Worm —
Obtain it’s right of Dew —
Adjust the Heat — elude the Wind —
Escape the prowling Bee —

Great Nature not to disappoint
Awaiting Her that Day —
To be a Flower, is profound
Responsibility —

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #1038)

late spring in the woods

6.6.18 ~ wild geranium, Connecticut College Arboretum
New London, Connecticut

The wood is decked in light green leaf.
The swallow twitters in delight.
The lonely vine sheds joyous tears
Of interwoven dew and light.

Spring weaves a gown of green to clad
The mountain height and wide-spread field.
O when wilt thou, my native land,
In all thy glory stand revealed?

~ Ilia Chavchavadze
(Anthology of Georgian Poetry)

“Summer is coming!” the soft breezes whisper;
“Summer is coming!” the glad birdies sing.
Summer is coming — I hear her quick footsteps;
Take your last look at the beautiful Spring.
~ Dora Read Goodale
(Summer Is Coming)

To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.
~ George Santayana
(Words of Wisdom & Quotable Quotes)

notice the ant in the middle of the flower

How many Flowers fail in Wood —
Or perish from the Hill —
Without the privilege to know
That they are Beautiful —

How many cast a nameless Pod
Opon the nearest Breeze —
Unconscious of the Scarlet Freight —
It bear to other eyes —

~ Emily Dickinson
(The Poems of Emily Dickinson, #534)

Honor the space between no longer and not yet.
~ Nancy Levin
(Grief Interrupted: A Holistic Guide to Reclaiming Your Joy)

Janet overlooking the lawn where the audience sits
to watch outdoor theater in the summer

softest soft

theodorkittelsen.august — “August” by Theodor Kittelsen

August is the softest soft I know,
This vibrating chord between summer and fall,
This dew of farewell pearling in my hands.
~ Einar Skjæraasen
(Seasons)

winter appointments

"Winter Light" by Ann Brainerd Crane — “Winter Light” by Ann Brainerd Crane

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)

faerie in charge of droplets of dew

Dew Drop Villas created by Cathy DeMeo ~ 10.12.12 ~ Old Lyme, Connecticut

Dewey Greenleaf is the faerie in charge of droplets of dew that appear early each day on the garden’s flowers and plants. He knows that Impressionist artists love to paint the reflections of light, sun, and sky captured by delicate dew and soft mist. So each day at dawn, before any painters arrive, he collects and freezes the glistening drops that form on his multi-level home to preserve their beauty for everyone to see.
~ Wee Faerie Village: Land of Picture Making

The fairy poet takes a sheet
Of moonbeam, silver white;
His ink is dew from daisies sweet,
His pen a point of light.
~ Joyce Kilmer
(Fairy House Handbook)