tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77570932803877685932012-01-26T12:25:20.865-05:00After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality, and so on - and have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear . . . . .what remains? . . .Nature remains. . . Walt Whitmannina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.comBlogger6251100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-1535360501537083022011-09-14T09:47:00.005-04:002011-09-14T10:09:23.537-04:00

The thin, green strip has been mowed again—that narrow band of grass and weeds that runs in the few feet of unplowed land on either side of the lane that I walk along each day.Chicory, Cichorium intybusThe danger in letting it grow, I have not quite determined, for nothing woody remains along the field's edge—nothing that, if not cut severely back each month, would soon overtake the road.Yet the

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-48036756343575033642011-09-03T16:45:00.011-04:002011-09-03T20:08:56.834-04:00

The Great Borer Expedition II A journey into the untamed brush of southern Ohio in pursuit of the Amorpha Borer, a seldom seen longhorned beetle, described by the few who have found it as ‘the most beautiful insect in the world.’ The Team (in alphabetical order) Even when she’s without her favorite hat, Heather Aubke wears her reputation well. She's the Indiana Jones of the volunteer

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Marblehead Light This may not be the image that first pops into your mind at the mention of the word Ohio. Ohio’s a Midwestern state, right? Farmland boasting fertile fields of both corn and beans, a hint of hill country to the east where the Appalachian plateau rises from the Ohio River Valley, and Columbus situated at its center—including, of course, the sprawling campus of The Ohio State

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My hummingbird is happy for the change…in me. A newly cleaned and freshly filled reservoir hangs, brimming with cool nectar, in what feels like September’s first fall breeze. I’d gotten lazy in my tending of the small, plastic globe suspended from the eave of the upstairs front porch and blamed, instead, the awful August heat for the mildew-blackened holes and clouded liquid of the neglected

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-14354160622249192302011-08-23T11:58:00.007-04:002011-08-23T13:05:52.331-04:00

I had just made the last trip outside for the night, flipping on the porch light and grabbing the few remaining items from the clothesline across the yard. Glad that I’d caught them before the heavy summer night could leave its cool dampness with them once more, clothes in hand, I moved mindlessly toward the back door, already falling into sleep. The sounds from the woods and field, strong and

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Prothonotary Warbler in Wet Woods I recall a brief greeting several years ago in an exchange one spring afternoon beside a boardwalk. “The prothonotary has returned!” he said. But as I stepped onto the wooden-planked path looping the lake at our local nature center, the excitement this announcer had hoped to read on my face as he joyfully told me of his discovery was clearly absent. I didn’t

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Like many others, I’ve been kept off the trail for days by this extreme heat--a wave so wide-ranging and long-lasting that I’m hard-pressed to find a direction to explore, a place escaping the blanket of humidity that, each day by dinnertime, catapults the heat index well above 100 degrees. Waiting out its wrath from within my air-conditioned cocoon, the only exercise I’ve undertaken in these

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-61126204690793822132011-07-13T18:38:00.003-04:002011-07-14T19:50:26.341-04:00

Purple Coneflower, Echinacea purpureaThe Midwest Native Plant Symposium brought together a combination of botanical experts, local native plant vendors and plant/nature enthusiasts for a weekend of wild activities of all sorts. Mornings began with bird walks, just as the sun was making its way onto the sprawling greenscape of Mount Saint John. As anyone with an interest in our birds or bugs soon

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-61313934729012412552011-07-06T10:20:00.005-04:002011-07-10T17:42:25.196-04:00

Excuse me, while I ramble, but being off-task is something I do well--something that, no matter how earnestly I try to walk that straight and narrow path, always takes me on a detour. I eventually find my way back, but not without having pored cover-to-cover over multiple field guides, browsed internet images, and consulted the text, once again. In the end, I am better for my effort. But, the

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-54999502507532883222011-07-03T07:12:00.003-04:002011-07-03T10:05:02.569-04:00

The face beyond the windowpane,drawn to the light from within, bumps noisily head to glass, as I, on the other side, peer carefully nose to glass, drawn to the darkness of this night, and look out to see who’s knocking.This is a Reddish-Brown Stag Beetle, Lucanus capreolus, and his fearsome appearance at your window on a balmy summer night might cause you to wonder what his intentions are.Who’s

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-70961754420139008302011-06-29T17:39:00.012-04:002011-06-29T20:38:38.543-04:00

A summer walk down a grassy path will quickly tell you one thing—there’s far more here than meets the eye. From beneath the tangle of green, field crickets sing, unseen in the heat of the day. Grasshoppers, startled from their hiding spots, lift suddenly with a golden flutter like small birds to a new resting spot, feet beyond my steps. With the rattle of freshly dried wings, a dragonfly frees

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-61820965676681145242011-06-23T12:34:00.006-04:002011-06-23T12:50:05.590-04:00

Summer solstice is behind us.And with it, have gone the lengthening days that offer me, each evening, a reprise—several hours more to explore the outdoors. The very trails I walked this morning, with fading light, become wholly unknown. Though the path is familiar, the journey never the same.I treasure the long days for their evening hours—their time to watch fireflies light the hedgerows,their

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-71783433825192881752011-06-20T22:16:00.006-04:002011-06-21T08:31:26.321-04:00

January 18th was a day for winter walking.Light rain mid-morning had given way to blue skies, which, in a season best described as a string of predictably gray flannel afternoons that stretches from November to March, was in itself reason to make note. But in the woods where I stood looking up, admiring the unusual brilliance from beneath a tangle of bare limbs, I discovered something even better

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-45983696186406738902011-06-17T15:20:00.012-04:002011-06-17T21:16:05.401-04:00

This year’s extraordinarily wet spring may have put a crimp in the plans for your garden, but the repeated soaking rains and slow progression of warming temperatures have provided that perfect world about which frogs usually can only dream.While deep, dark ruts still mark the depths to which the tractor labored against mud and tall grass in the first mowing of spring, the amphibians in my yard

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I’ll get back to sharing Michigan’s wonderful adventure soon enough.But, let’s press pause, set the cool air and fresh breezes aside for a moment, and catch up with a bit of excitement I found in my very own southern Ohio back yard.After all, what would a sultry summer day be, without tales of long-legged hairy spiders to keep you awake long after darkness has fallen?You know you won’t sleep

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-1719341412886386662011-06-02T16:14:00.004-04:002011-06-02T17:09:12.984-04:00

Wetland in Northern MichiganTime in Michigan allowed me a chance to meet more of the Heath family.Nope, not the people...the plants.These members of Ericaceae, whose species number over 3300 worldwide, are primarily small shrubs, often with leathery or resinous evergreen leaves. And because they dislike limey soils, they’re not likely to be found where I spend most of my time hiking, the till

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Lake Nettie in the MorningI wake this morning to the sound of tree frogs.Warm, heavy air has been spread over the Ohio River valley like a scratchy wool blanket that I would peel back and crawl out from underneath, if I could.The weight is almost stifling—the dampness on my skin, constant.But in the hush of dawn, those few brief moments before daylight brings the rustling of leaves and the chorus

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-18590075380839679012011-05-16T21:34:00.001-04:002011-05-16T21:43:55.748-04:00

Blue-Gray GnatcatcherA tiny bird sings incessantly from the highest branch of the tree beyond my window—a blue-gray gnatcatcher…that seemingly miniature mockingbird, with his wispy, whistle-y song. Oh, how he teased me to watch him weeks ago, playing his tiny kazoo, as I fussed with preparations for my trip to New River—a week of nature camp for grown-ups, as I’ve come to think of it.He’s still

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-24079284812471803962011-05-14T13:03:00.010-04:002011-05-14T17:46:44.439-04:00

May apple blossom in the RainA blue school bus makes the steady climb along a narrow gravel drive in West Virginia.From behind its steamed windows on a chilly morning, a group of birders looks out into the Appalachian woods, rich and wet from yesterday’s passing rain.Higher and higher we climb.The Bobolink FieldWe’ve just come from a field in “High Country,” where bobolinks burst like popcorn

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-75066771647832588182011-05-11T16:44:00.000-04:002011-05-13T16:38:14.676-04:00

photo courtesy Jim McCormacWhat’s wrong with this picture?It's a group shot, from the Sugar Creek field trip at the New River Birding and Nature Festival where I spent the last wonderful week...a picture of fellow-birders, gladdened by a very birdy morning, hungrily having taken in long, lavish looks at a prized warbler as we wove a slow path down this gravelly West Virginia mountain road.I’m

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-42239328128617748682011-04-16T15:13:00.009-04:002011-04-16T19:36:38.467-04:00

Dutchman's BreechesI climbed the hillside and sat among pole after pole of tiny trousers, waving in the breeze of an April afternoon.But for as long as I waited there on the leafy bank for her return, not one little laundress came to collect her things.Where are these little half-dressed men of the spring forest?And why do they never wash their jackets?Dutchman's Breeches, Dicentra cucullaria

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-16034967117791909732011-04-11T09:03:00.000-04:002011-04-11T09:03:00.887-04:00

White Trout-lily, Erythronium albidumI seldom worry that what is found in a day outdoors will not be in some way extraordinary.In early April, especially, when daily change makes the new of yesterday instantly old, I hate to miss even one day of it.Sessile Trillium, Trillium sessileAbove the earth and from beneath its surface, life creeps back into a resting landscape.Birds cross the sky.Leaves

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-30321152836758188952011-04-09T08:09:00.018-04:002011-04-09T14:14:52.155-04:00

Fallow FieldAdams County OhioThe fallow fields along the Ohio River may be waiting for seed or plow, but they’re anything but empty on this early spring afternoon.Covered by a giant purple carpet, they glow from edge to edge with the bright, pink-lipped flowers and soft, fuzzy leaves of an alien mint, Purple Dead-nettle, that quickly moves in to these resting fields, leaving only a few toe holds

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-13237392365676805532011-04-04T13:50:00.018-04:002011-04-09T14:50:39.973-04:00

Draba verna"He who hopes for spring with upturned eyenever sees so small a thing as Draba.He who despairs of spring with downcast eyesteps on it, unknowing.He who searches for spring with his knees in the mudfinds it, in abundance." — Aldo LeopoldFor much of the world, the arrival of spring is a showy occasion.Like the young girls in brightly-colored, petticoated dresses, we expect the

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-59745565289091550012011-03-28T09:54:00.005-04:002011-03-28T15:53:09.286-04:00

It’s a crisp, clear day in late March--the trees still bare, the farm fields wide and wanting.As I walk the empty country lane, a speck of a bird soars high in the sky above me, beyond anything that I can clearly see, against an expanse of blue. Steady and strong on a column of air, he slowly carves a wide arc without so much as a wing beat. I name him easily and walk on—a red-tailed hawk. It

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-88140033443561391942011-03-12T10:17:00.002-05:002011-03-12T10:19:36.857-05:00

Snowflake on Red MapleMy ritual of spring has begun---with daily visits to each of my 2 vernal pools, now filled to the brim with melted snow and repeated spring rain, and nightly vigils as I wait for what I remember as clearly as if it happened just yesterday, the return of the spotted salamanders.Vernal PoolLichen and SnowBut as I wait by the edge, spring steps forward and back, hesitating to

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-57318632279449189092011-02-23T13:22:00.006-05:002011-02-23T14:17:44.661-05:00

Winter Wrap-upI’ve become a lot like my cats—watching the world from a window,waiting for a spot o’ sun.Northern cardinal, maleSnow Daymourning dove in winterpurple finch, femaleIce Stormpurple finch, malewhite-throated sparrowSpot o' SunAmerican goldfinch, malewhite-tailed deer

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Hmmm, ...another bird book soon to be gracing the shelves of the bookstores around town—or so I thought, flipping through the glossy pages of the latest from Princeton University Press.The Crossley ID Guide: Eastern Birds, to be released in March 2011, boldly features the photographic excellence of Richard Crossley, a life-long lover of birds and admitted “twitcher,” as bird chasers from his

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-84867045241616925292011-02-04T13:27:00.010-05:002011-02-04T16:37:47.844-05:00

In a moment of both delight and dismay, I stooped to pick up a small form barely larger than the clothespins tucked into my pocket, as it lay wet and dirtied in the center of the yard just feet beyond the clothesline. A little bird, strangely fallen with no obvious explanation as to how it had happened to lay there, motionless in the dampened grass.I turned it over in my hand, the cold and small,

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Rural Ohio in JanuaryIt was cold.From where I sat, impatiently idling in the deserted intersection beneath a single swaying red light, I looked across to an illuminated bank sign at the corner of Rt. 36 that confirmed it—1:42 p.m., 13 degrees.Although I was heavily dressed in layers of fleece and tightly tucked into my warmest of woolen socks, my toes still held the chill they had gotten in my

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-11508475160503591572011-01-07T12:43:00.012-05:002011-01-08T06:31:45.415-05:00

A great horned owl calls into the cold and clear predawn air.I know that on a morning like this I will find a brittle layer of ice left atop the water bucket in the barn.The ground is frozen firm.We are in the dead of winter.While the house is dark and still, I slip downstairs and through the kitchen to the laundry room, gently sliding the door aside and peeking tentatively inside. Separate from

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-59076060093421766872010-12-12T19:00:00.001-05:002011-02-13T12:36:01.268-05:00

Echo Island, Lake KabetogamaVoyageurs National Parkmallard feeding at shoreEcho Island is tucked just several hundred yards off shore in the southwestern corner of Lake Kabetogama. Facing away from the resorts and private camps that line the lake edge, the island sits like a shy child caught in the midst of a party—its tree-lined shoulder turned inward, protecting on the other side a small rocky

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I woke to a leaden sky, and a cold, damp dawn that in every way spoke of winter’s return.I love this season more than do most--its character of change, its constant contrast from the delicate vulnerability of a single snowflake to the strength and fury of a stinging blizzard. But, given a shorter day, one bound by a hesitant sunrise and hasty sunset, I am left with little time to be in the

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-74300972898466358822010-10-03T16:57:00.026-04:002010-10-04T23:16:25.812-04:00

Birders and lists go hand in hand.We keep yard lists, trip lists, life lists.If you’re anything like me, this turn of the season, an almost overnight change to the crisper days of autumn, has prompted the generation of yet another list--an attempt to stay on task and responsibly navigate the fleeting fall months to come. There’s a cluster of family birthdays for which to prepare, window screens

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SylvieWhere are you going, as I stand here behind wise eyes that watch you as you pass?And what is it you are looking for?I used to be your favorite, you know, your first.I remember the hours we spent each day together sitting in this field.It hardly seems like fourteen years.And all the time, you never seemed to mind the green-trimmed holes I chewed in your t-shirts, or the way I marked you as

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I love nothing better than to push off from the shore of a broad, shallow lake and float out into its center--the entire body of water around me, quiet and still.Sitting low to its surface in my kayak, the sky above it all seems even more huge, its open space a giant dome across which birds and dragonflies course—while I drift as a lone, small speck below.Bald Eagle above Salt Fork LakeOnto the

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From the southwestern corner of the state, I drive east, along a highway laid straight between planted farm fields all around. Flat and sprawling acre upon acre, they are green now with corn and beans or stand bare while the glossy stubble of harvested wheat fades to gray beneath the bleaching rays of the sun.Mile upon mile, as distant clusters of barns and sheds tucked neatly between the broad

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Robber Fly with KillThere’s a thief among us--a predator who snatches one, then another, from her lookout on the rusty rail of the field fencing in my overgrown pasture.She takes to the air and effortlessly grabs hapless insects in mid-flight, wrapping her spiny legs and clawed feet around some larger than herself, while some are smaller and easier prey.Robber Fly with small wasp or antWith

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Common Buckeye, Junonia coeniaThere is a gentle flutter against the glass. On this cool morning, each of a handful of butterflies begins its life upon wings and waits to fly in the first warming rays of the sun.They’re my beautiful Buckeyes—found as caterpillars just several days before, as I walked the mowed path ringing a summer field filled with riotous wildflowers.Absorbed in a torrent of

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Garden SunriseA vine has covered my garden in the way that daylight creeps across the yard—from the first tender rays in one corner, stretching and fanning out until only a few spots remain untouched, those safely hidden behind another.If it were any other, I would pull it—yank its long reaching arms and winding fingers from my vegetable patch, where a few withering pumpkin plants struggle

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-28075369463466126162010-07-29T13:51:00.002-04:002010-07-29T16:56:47.888-04:00

Black Swallowtail caterpillar on dill with dewBlack Swallowtail caterpillar,Papilio polyxenesI deftly plucked one from the stem—a plump striped caterpillar who was making a meal of the feathery fingers of dill at the edge of our vegetable garden. And, pleased with my find, paused just long enough to snap off several stems of Queen Anne’s lace before running inside with my prize.Setting up a

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-23798196841933346242010-07-23T11:45:00.012-04:002010-07-24T07:18:28.311-04:00

Dense Blazing Star/Dense Gayfeather, Liatris spicataLast weekend was my much-awaited return to Killdeer Plains Wildlife Area, a date marked with exuberance on my calendar of summer events by colorful rings and several stars. Last year I had attended a workshop there for the first time, not as an Ohio Certified Volunteer Naturalist (OCVN) for whom these weekends are designed to offer advanced

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-14258904796579225132010-07-21T11:45:00.015-04:002010-07-22T07:04:46.218-04:00

The Cool at the PoolReentry was always predictable—compose a one-page piece entitled How I Spent My Summer Vacation.And as the expected assignment was handed out to an audience of less-than-enthusiastic students upon their return to school each fall, part of me wondered if the intent in giving it was greater than its simply being an exercise in the retrieval of rusty writing skills.The stories

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While those behind the garden gateon fiery plumes bent low do swayand sip the wine of kings and queens,beyond them yet a copper.Whose tireless flight past fields grown highbeside this ditch down dusty road,her fare in one brave plant remains uncut.Alas, she is no less lovely.Bronze Copper, Lycaena hyllus, female The Bronze Copper, Lycaena hyllus, is a butterfly primarily of open wet areas.

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-28932228277428032852010-07-14T06:43:00.008-04:002010-07-14T07:22:00.460-04:00

Cope's Gray Tree FrogThe day has become dark, the air heavy.This morning, standing waist deep in the field of blackberry brambles, their canes bent low beneath a load of plump fruit, I prided myself at having chosen the perfect day for their picking. Cool and clouded, it had allowed me to don the heavy garments that keep the thorns guarding their precious fruit at bay. And, wrapped in long pants

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-16952236175119082372010-05-27T06:09:00.034-04:002010-05-28T08:48:11.931-04:00

a rustic trail on Michigan's northern lower peninsula From a small and unpaved lot, a gravel trail winds off toward the Huron shore. Between the rough and lichen-covered stands of evergreens, in what would seem, to many, inhospitable ground, small plants thrive in the rocky limestone.From beneath bent and weathered branches, delicate white flowers reach into spots of sunshine.Limber Honeysuckle,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-32252167428089280352010-05-25T13:48:00.010-04:002010-05-25T15:51:33.883-04:00

Dwarf Lake IrisThe morning fog lifts to reveal a roadside filled with small flowers, each thin green leaf glowing brightly and bearing a dewdrop that glistens beside its showy purple bloom.Barely tall enough to cover the toe of my boot, this carpet of a hundred small faces turned to the sky rolls up and over the open space.Scattered at their edge, where the rocky trail yields to a dense cedar and

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-12082939619683813602010-04-24T10:16:00.007-04:002010-04-24T14:42:51.596-04:00

ReflectionI have retired.Not in the social security sense—that age-determined status that promises perpetual care,the reward for life’s contributions already made.But in the sense of taking a changed path—to determine each day the direction for myself,to discover that contribution yet within me.Damsel in the grassFrom a car parked beside mine, a man left the gravel lot and walked off into the

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-64430067940604068672010-04-13T09:30:00.002-04:002010-04-13T10:05:10.058-04:00

I could destroy in one blowher fine houseof spun silkwoven with careor leave it thereto capture the first light I might otherwise not see.

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-90914605511904443212010-04-04T08:43:00.000-04:002010-04-04T09:32:23.362-04:00

Seeking SunshineSnow Trillium, Trillium nivaleI sat for a day in the woods, on a warm bank where some shrubs had filled the space beneath the bare trees and had already begun to leaf-out, while all else around stayed buried in the layer of dense brown leaves. Working with a small hand saw, I cleared the entire bank of them, creeping from one bush to the next, attacking each branch near its base,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-42329615540286564022010-03-26T21:04:00.012-04:002010-03-29T19:07:05.918-04:00

Little PondAnother warm night has begun.I step into my tall wading boots, slip under the cover of a long dark jacket, and ease beneath the slender strap of the light which will hang from my shoulder. At my hip this large beam will freely swing, slung like a purse, as I walk hands-free exploring the edge of Little Pond in the hours approaching midnight. My final garment-- the heavy winter hat,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-18588294881370336442010-03-16T08:12:00.006-04:002010-03-16T09:16:57.184-04:00

The sound of peepers fills the air.With my eyes still closed in the dark of a cool, spring morning,like sleigh bells through the field grass, their distant chime forecasts another warming day.For weeks I’ve driven past the still snow-covered fields, each time, looking for a change—a sign that this winter, longer than most and having left layer upon layer of snow, would lessen its hold. And along

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-30671514599836397342010-01-26T08:23:00.003-05:002010-01-26T08:25:49.721-05:00

Northern Cardinal, femalein snowA small tree stands just beyond my back-facing window.As it grows steadily, taller every year, I’ve come to realize that this lanky specimen brought proudly home from school by my fourth-grader over 15 years ago, is much like the long-legged, hungry puppy, whose large feet hint at its future size while it waits, wagging--innocently asking for a home.It’s an Ohio

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-76231253840942217872010-01-20T07:22:00.013-05:002010-01-20T08:30:46.633-05:00

It’s not the picture you’d expect--a mother rhino rolling in the soft mud, the escaping rays of afternoon sun strong on the face of her calf, wide-eyed and waiting at her shoulder.Except for the heavy rails that contain the pair on this January afternoon, it would seem that we’ve caught a glimpse of a most natural sight—mother and young at ease in the wild.And, actually, we have.The WildsThe pair

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-17777189749970553972010-01-15T16:00:00.001-05:002010-01-15T17:19:25.959-05:00

Gray Squirrel on patioIt’s easy to get wrapped up in things, carried away, distracted this time of year. So many of life’s great joys converge and attempt to land in a 2-week span, that the daily routine stops dead in its tracks. There’s a flurry of activity, a great gathering and refreshing of tradition and lore.Then, as quickly as they came, they’re off, again.And I step back onto the trail,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-53078182551454194162009-12-21T19:26:00.001-05:002009-12-23T07:00:30.585-05:00

Last weekend left the world white. For a while, I watched from the window--as a wave from the west brought wind and fluffy flakes, turning the woods into a wonderland.I went for a walk along the trails, weaving my way around the wide circle,the few frosty flakes already wet and melting.The slightest snow, wonderful on this first day of winter.View more ABC Wednesdays here!

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-92011149744473168432009-12-17T07:52:00.007-05:002009-12-17T20:28:50.355-05:00

The GetawayBeside the deep end of our pond, where the stacked rows of concrete pavers line a narrow overflow and the tangled roots of a small stand of locusts wrap the tunnels of a den of muskrats, a few feet of weathered wooden planks extend onto the water, just beyond the edge. Perhaps we are wrong to call it a dock, for neither a boat, nor cargo, nor passengers arrive here.Nothing is

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-4188012272497059502009-12-15T11:30:00.007-05:002009-12-15T12:40:34.913-05:00

The house is quiet.From behind a sheer, frosty curtain, the world is waking—while the moon casts the sharp shadows of bare trees in bold lines across the woods beyond my window.It will be the perfect day to stay inside--watch the feeder birds as I sift and sort.December has become my month for housekeeping.Not in the literal sense, although there’s a fair share of that, as well. Closets to be

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-82192055417918894552009-12-10T14:27:00.007-05:002009-12-11T09:05:23.052-05:00

frosted windowA fast frost fell last night, covering the field and all its grasses, boughs left long since summer, with rows of crystal white. A covering so fragile, so fleeting, that the warmth off my hand as I stood close to it, dissolved them without a touch.And the rising sun, though the air still frozen and cold, erased them in an instant.sparrow in frosted fieldsunrise on a frosted

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-64704721012241951702009-12-08T10:53:00.006-05:002009-12-09T07:01:38.545-05:00

It doesn’t look like much, perhaps even an oversight—the terrarium left sitting on the front porch stoop, while others’ homes are now tidied for Christmas. But, the frosted glass and pile of leaves within are there, just as I like them.Something’s going on--underneath it all.Giant Leopard Moth caterpillarAs summer days were waning and butterflies had moved on, I found a hairy caterpillar wearing

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-5411402458660869252009-12-03T15:59:00.011-05:002009-12-04T20:05:40.928-05:00

Autumn GrassesThe heat has cycled on, blowing the first warm breeze of the morning into a darkened room, which, though the clock has declared an hour past sunrise, the dimness outside denies.A thick, gray cloud hides the Cold Moon.Yesterday, in an effort to soak in the last warm afternoon before a stretch of colder ones arrive, I walked the field, drawing in the clean, autumn air with each long

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-72995853572657935322009-11-29T20:07:00.006-05:002009-12-01T20:16:40.067-05:00

We traveled up the highway in the dark, leaving the city lights behind, as flat farmland unrolled around us in every direction. Aside from the occasional cluster of buildings whose pointed cone roofs rose above the faint forms of small homes, their lights glowing warmly within, there was much of nothing to see.Then against the barren black, one red, flashing light in the distance became many.And

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-4513328974812428252009-11-26T14:25:00.006-05:002009-12-01T11:45:29.912-05:00

For the day's events leading to this sunset, please begin here.Sandhill Cranes at SunsetJasper-Pulaski Fish and Wildlife AreaMedaryville, IndianaSee more Skywatch here.

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-88955915844028220902009-11-24T10:35:00.016-05:002009-12-01T11:49:34.111-05:00

Paired for LifeFrom behind us, a rosy sun emerged above the stand of pines, glowing warmly on our backs and upon the breasts of the gathering birds, casting their gray feathers countless shades from icy white to slate blue, and lavender to silver. Growing steadily in size as more arrived from their overnight roosts in the marsh, the massing in the field stood around a shallow puddle, facing the

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-40827269760389673282009-11-23T20:01:00.011-05:002009-11-26T17:19:10.749-05:00

SunriseJasper-Pulaski Fish & Wildlife AreaMedaryville, IndianaWe drove alone in the dark, down the straight, narrow roads of a small, rural community in northern Indiana, its massive fields of shortly cropped corn still covered in wisps of early morning fog. Aside from small blinking lights on distant towers and a scattering of stars above, the clear sky in total black on this day in late

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-3600174644661898592009-11-19T15:44:00.008-05:002009-11-27T08:44:07.292-05:00

Twelve-mile Beach,Lake SuperiorWaves tugging at the sand beside the broad blue of Superior, with great effort she lifted herself-- each labored step, dragging her clumsy body a bit further, beyond their reach onto the otherwise empty, windblown edge of Michigan’s Twelve-mile Beach.Knocked off the breeze carrying her in carefree flight above its lapping waters by a long, curling tongue of this

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-77757948534020274512009-11-17T10:00:00.013-05:002009-11-19T10:21:27.034-05:00

Tahquamenon Falls, Michiganthe Upper Falls from the platformThe Tahquamenon River (rhymes with phenomenon) flows north into Lake Superior, after winding nearly 100 miles through Michigan’s Upper Peninsula to empty into Whitefish Bay. From swamps lined with hemlock and spruce, their tannins having stained its rushing waters brown, it passes here, over the Upper Falls in Tahquamenon State Park,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-13857458928546054212009-11-14T07:43:00.012-05:002009-11-15T09:10:28.754-05:00

I still pore through piles of photographs, captured, now months ago, when we took just one day to travel north and spend the week walking a great lakeshore. With each, reviving an impression so great upon our reaching daylight, after passing down a dim and winding trail from within the dense, north woods--of a broad beach and open water which, at first, lay calm and still.In mounting wind and

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-17897532905262795112009-11-11T16:03:00.004-05:002009-12-01T11:46:06.603-05:00

Reflection(This is part III of a story that begins here.)While the pheasant dashed between the rows of corn stubble without so much as a pause or backward glance, I pulled the car to the side of the road and waited. The dogs, still running circles in the tangles beside me, apparently had lost him at the road’s edge. And the fact that my vehicle now stood between them and their prey’s low,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-79566230340449064092009-11-10T21:10:00.005-05:002009-11-11T16:27:08.762-05:00

(This is part II of a story that begins here.)Rather than stop right there and step clumsily out, draped beneath the tangled straps of binocular and camera, into the midst of insulated boots and hunters' caps, I continued past them, turned the car in the overgrown field beside the line of trucks, and wiggled my way back out onto the small, rural road. Four-tenths of a mile further, I could hope

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-24656732689770426162009-11-09T20:57:00.008-05:002009-11-11T07:24:05.012-05:00

Spring Valley Wildlife AreaWe are wrapping up a stretch of those rare autumn days—those seemingly more wonderful than the fleeting days of summer. For they visit us after the frost has fallen, when summer has packed her bags and moved on.Friday’s forecast promised sunshine and blue skies--uncommon for November in the Ohio River Valley. Where the usual day is clouded and gray, and each piles up,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-23216995943360778832009-11-05T08:52:00.015-05:002009-12-01T11:46:23.827-05:00

I arrived at the beach mid-afternoon, in a desperate attempt to hold onto the dwindling hours of a weekend—their passing even faster, now, as the time change steals an hour of light from the end each day’s due.The night has suddenly grown long.American Lotus seed headAt the water’s edge, a withered leaf and seed head of the Lotus remind me of their great fields in the distance. The tall, creamy

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-59413669921417856582009-11-03T10:32:00.009-05:002011-02-13T16:25:04.584-05:00

The pictures worth a thousand words...northern shore of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan,Pictured Rocks National LakeshoreView more ABC Wednesdays here!

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-27748522418468970002009-11-02T07:13:00.006-05:002009-11-02T08:12:58.829-05:00

Summer came to play for just one day--her blue eyes flashing,flaxen hair lifted in the breeze,as she skipped the trail where Autumn patiently waits.Then, ran off to another place,white petticoats flashing behind her.Her calico dress is laid out across my field.Autumn Meadowhawk, Sympetrum vicinum,male above, female belowkatydidGoldenrod of summer pastRose hips, multiflora roseEastern Bluebird

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-66641526161026940112009-10-29T09:38:00.013-04:002009-12-01T11:46:40.694-05:00

Little Beaver LakeWe pushed off in Red Canoe with barely a glance over our shoulder, hurriedly strapping seatbacks into place, and grabbing day packs and paddles--anxious to make up for what had been a late morning’s start followed by several detours down the invitingly shaded, sandy paths on Michigan’s UP. This spot on the map, Little Beaver Lake, looked to be an easy paddle. A 39-acre lake,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-24146089859920796022009-10-27T11:50:00.006-04:002009-10-28T11:47:16.534-04:00

Eastern Bluebird at nestboxI love the golden woods,where, even on the dimmest days,what little light there is seems more.And boughs barely seen under splendid array,stretch long and lean toward the sky.Eastern box turtleNow, are summer’s secrets revealed.American beech leavesTurkeytail fungiWhite-crowned SparrowThe falls on Avey's RunCincinnati Nature Center

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-33942069036456620522009-10-26T18:49:00.002-04:002009-10-27T08:18:35.688-04:00

American Marram grass on the dunes of Lake SuperiorI pause, wandering the dimly lit aisles of a small, densely packed general store coupled with one of the few gas stations sparsely scattered across the northernmost shore of the U.P. of Michigan. Bread and milk, canned goods, a few frozen confections and assorted toiletries share shelf space beside a broad selection of fishing lures, beef jerky

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sunrise on northern shore of Lake MichiganI could spend hours just walking the shoreline—exploring that space where two worlds converge.While one foot skims the cool water of this great lake that extends to beyond the horizon, the other stands upon the finest grains of sand, their own sea of sorts, in dunes windswept to the tree line.vegetation on the dunes spreads by underground rhizomeswhich

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The hickory tree in the backyardI am caught in the scramble of what is autumn--days filled with lovely leaves and decorated by bits and pieces of warmth. While inside, winter chores peek out from behind dingy glass and closet doors—a reminder of all that has been set aside as I do so many things I would rather.I look away.If our eyes do not meet, it is as if I they cannot see me.Outdoors, a

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We paused with uncertainty as the paved road abruptly ended.Our journey north across the Upper Peninsula of Michigan would continue now across a sand drive, plowed and left in loose piles on either shoulder.Well-worn and rutted—top speed 20 mph.The dark, deciduous woodswere punctuated by bright stands of birch,and gradually yieldedto pine woods,where bushy bracken ferngrew elbow to elbow between

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The shore of the Manistique was a welcome sight.A steep descent over a narrow, one-lane drive, deeply furrowed and piled high with loose sand, that would happily swallow an axle of a less-than-confident-driver’s vehicle, committed us to spending some time here—at least until we could locate another way out. But, we were pleased to have found it, the public access point for the river running

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-1980788698037811712009-10-13T02:53:00.016-04:002009-10-14T11:59:07.718-04:00

Winged Sumac in fall colorThere’s an annual event in the world of birding called the Big Sit, and it’s full of great birders.The Big Sit involves anyone--individuals or groups from around the world, each creating a 17-foot diameter circle on a specified date and tallying the number of bird species seen or heard from within their circle for a 24-hour period.The summer hills of southeastern

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-78234538101218280082009-10-06T09:54:00.007-04:002009-10-06T11:21:20.472-04:00

This sky of cloud and blue,That bends the tall grass,Tugs the fading frond,Carries flakes of color,Turning them, tipping them,Setting them to restwithin the fields of amethyst and gold,As with a fallen leaf.Fields of goldenrod and aster

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Seney National Wildlife RefugeTrumpeter SwansI crouched low at the edge of the shallow water amid a great herd—these largest of the swans, preening and resting in the strong sun of a September afternoon, my arms wrapped around bent knees, barely breathing, holding myself small and still, eye-to-eye with a magnificent white bird.dipping for dinnerHis tannin-stained neck and head lifted from its

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-83803185682278135942009-09-29T07:52:00.018-04:002009-12-01T11:47:02.772-05:00

We quickly pulled as far as we could to the side, wheels barely dipping off the paved highway, while heavily-loaded logging trucks pushed tall walls of air ahead of their massive profiles rocking the car, and I wrestled free of my seatbelt, scrambling for binoculars and camera.The graceful birds stepping along the horizon, then crossing the crest of the hill to an unseen field beyond, barely

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-10015711585535017632009-09-23T23:44:00.015-04:002009-10-26T22:16:31.953-04:00

Evening on Lake MichiganI walked to the edge and stepped into the cool, clear water of this great lake—Michigan, where a long sand beach, briefly interrupted by washed rocks along the southern island shoreline, reflected the rosy shades of an evening sun.And stood looking over its rippled surface to the point where it dissolved into sky--waves stealing sand from beneath my toes, and replacing it

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-59372865743537095282009-09-22T22:18:00.006-04:002009-10-24T17:49:19.595-04:00

Determined to complete the ten-hour drive within the hours of daylight, carrying Red Canoe from the southernmost tip of Ohio to an unknown cabin on the lakeshore of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, an early morning’s start, by late afternoon, left us giddy with anticipation of a wonderful week.click photo for a smileAnd each hour further into a landscape that resembled the north woods of the

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It is not as I left it.Gold-tipped fields where green strongly grew tell of time’s passing--two weeks.Monarch caterpillar feeding on Sand Vine, Cynanchum laeve And knowing I would not see their departure in my time away, I left the three hanging—chrysalises of monarch cats that had fed from a vase at my table—chewing their way as I sat watching, around the leaves and stems of a sand vine wrapped

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-69229834128210824602009-09-07T22:42:00.006-04:002009-09-08T19:53:23.016-04:00

Spring foal, first summerI have a case of the hiccups—nothing serious, more an annoyance.That intrudes into the easy flow of writing.Makes me pause and take a few slow breaths.In the calm I continue, slowly forward.And from that deep, dark place, they return.Those rude little misguided impulses.And irritate the heck out of me.Maybe you’ve noticed, the here again--and then gone.The cheery little

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-77028755767305185992009-09-01T09:50:00.006-04:002009-09-01T11:37:50.040-04:00

I would like to think the worst has moved on—that unpopular child that waits on the doorstep, steamy and red-faced, a cloud of heat around him, asking to play, while those inside watch through the glass, leaving nose prints upon the chilled windows.For today, cool air has come knocking.With windows open wide, fresh breezes run through the house, trip up the staircase and dance with curtains at

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-3223202267312039362009-08-27T16:20:00.009-04:002009-09-22T10:51:37.101-04:00

East Fork LakeNovember 2008East Fork Lake looks different now.No longer the slumbering giant, lurking beneath last fall’s fog, left one morning as a bitter night dropped its chill onto warmer water, and hurried off toward dawn.We paddled back, as far as the creek would allow, onto a wide gravel bar, covered densely with water-willow, side to side. The blooms now gone, the leaves stained with mud

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-44894353747255815072009-08-25T12:00:00.008-04:002009-08-25T12:25:21.181-04:00

Behind the SunflowerA Golden SpiralLook deep into this sunflower.Do you see it?The perfection of a Fibonacci Spiral--the resulting form of an arc drawn connecting the corners of squares whose sides progress in the Fibonacci sequence, an order in which each new number is the sum of the previous two.Like the Chambered Nautilus or the whorl of seeds on a pine cone.The order in nature leaves with us

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-9894993528677013952009-08-22T17:56:00.005-04:002009-08-23T10:01:46.526-04:00

Sand Vine, Cynanchum laeveI could blame it on the weather.Heaven knows it’s rained more this summer than ever before, or so it would seem. Weekly storms have left the ground saturated. And cool temperatures have taken little of the moisture away. The tomato plants, lush and leggy, have barely held their fruit for the time it takes to ripen, many times dropping heavy, orange orbs onto the damp

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-39416596749081798042009-08-20T11:06:00.008-04:002009-08-23T10:02:10.999-04:00

Summer's SunsetOrange Sulphur on Queen Anne's Lace at sunsetThere is a sense of waiting, as if suspended over a great space—the final weeks of summer hang, so still and expectant.This field, now empty of swallows, gone, as large flocks congregate and pass across the skies above the tree line, their backdrop, the tumbling clouds pushed ahead of what would be a welcome change.I visit the gum grove,

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-17739388178280423432009-08-18T11:16:00.007-04:002009-08-18T11:39:40.708-04:00

View more ABC Wednesdays here!

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-77209879011195426232009-08-15T16:01:00.005-04:002009-08-15T16:22:24.939-04:00

By dusk, the white blanket has begun to settle in.From every creek bed, it pours out onto the broad, low pastures to hang, swirling inches above the ground, turning and curling, before piling up in a soft drift and spilling over the ridge into the field beyond.Quiet and cool, it is left to soothe the spaces this August heat has seared.In the dark, I’ve walked here with a light—the air thick with

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-50948078941754591802009-08-13T11:18:00.007-04:002009-08-13T14:02:32.253-04:00

I remember school days, early fall, and a heat on the playground so fierce that, once back inside the classroom, the teacher would tell us, “Heads down all around”—the cold, flat desktop, a cool cloth placed on 30 sweaty heads and faces reddened with the racing games of 9-year-olds at recess.Across the darkened room, rows of bowed heads on bent forms waited, silhouetted against the bright light

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I remember the seeds, and their slender pods—that afternoon in March, cold and bright with sunshine.How I fussed to capture them—lifted on the slightest breeze, carried effortlessly away.Beyond the fields, still in the faded brown of winter, from their curling brick-red wraps tightly fastened to silvery bare branches, as winter held onto spring.Beyond beauty, there was nothing more.Hemp Dogbane,

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The dry days of summer, this year have not come.Even now, my path to the pond and beyond remains a winding one—taking the higher ground, hugging the fence line as it reaches toward the field behind the barn—never coursing straight across, for the lush green grass of an April day grows there still.And through the blades, where each step would be quickly consumed, the heat of the day dances in

nina at Nature Remains.http://www.blogger.com/profile/07888238636692649668noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7757093280387768593.post-38480287629096826272009-08-05T17:49:00.020-04:002009-12-03T20:06:50.188-05:00

Cowan LakeBackwater, August 2009We found ourselves in this same spot, barely 2 months ago, crossing the lake from the public launch.Tracing a path that took us past the boats and beaches, curves and coves, to the quiet water beyond, where spring had gathered them all—to raise the young of this season.Young Canada Geese Female Red-winged Blackbird feeding youngMale Red-winged Blackbird over

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