Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for July, 2023

This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Fort Pigeon

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged , , on July 5, 2023| 19 Comments »

Photo by Molly Hogan

Molly Hogan posted this wonderful photo of a pigeon hanging out at Fort Popham in Phippsburg, Maine. Molly finds a variety of places to practice her photography in her place on the earth. Birds are often her subject. You can see more photos on her Instagram and Facebook pages.

When I first looked at this photo, I thought (assumed) the yellow spots were wildflowers, but on closer inspection, they are stains on the stone wall. I did a quick Google and found that it’s maritime sunburst lichen, nurtured by the droppings of birds. So, in essence there is a symbiotic relationship here between bird and wall, pigeon and lichen. Isn’t the natural world fascinating?

Consider joining me in musing today about this photo. Leave a small poem (or even random thoughts) in the comments. Encourage other writers with your comments.

On the rock of my past,
a pigeon perches on my soul
filling me with a sunburst
of your love.

Margaret Simon, draft

A little note of connection: Molly and I both lost our fathers in 2022. We have shared lots of grief poems. When I was deep in my grief last May, a prothonotary warbler came to my window. I had never seen one close up. I gasped and thought immediately of Dad. Of course, every thought was of him, but I latched onto yellow as the color for him.

Read Full Post »

Slice of Life: Meet Wilson

Posted in Slice of Life, Writing, tagged , on July 4, 2023| 9 Comments »

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Wilson goes to my church, lives in my neighborhood, and is the father of my gynecologist. He’s a retired engineer from the sugarcane industry. A few years ago he gave me a bleeding heart plant that he had cultivated. I thought it had frozen this winter (sadly due to my neglect to bring it in for the freeze), but it is flourishing back. It seems to love the heat. Nevertheless, Wilson won my heart through this small gesture.

A few weeks ago, I was out on a morning walk, so I stopped by his house. He had promised to show me around his yard-nursery. I was immediately taking photos with my phone. Look at this gorgeous lotus blossom in a tiered fountain.

photo by Margaret Simon

On a tour of Wilson’s backyard, he showed me a spot where he plants cuttings and plant pups. His wife Betty says, “These are his babies.” Then he showed me a young fig tree. He said it could be mine. The best time to plant them is in the fall, so I will be back to pick it up when the air turns cool.

The photo to the right is a grassy plant that produces little seeds called Job’s tears. Wilson picks the seeds and takes out the center which leaves a perfect hole for making beaded bracelets. I was honored to receive one of his bracelets.

Wilson makes beaded bracelets from multi-colored Job’s tears.

Wilson and Betty have transformed a backyard shed into a “winery” where Wilson experiments with different fruits for making wine. Betty said the hardest part is the waiting.

Wilson shines a flashlight and says, “This one’s close. Look at this color.”

Wilson reminds me that we should do the things we love. Grow and cultivate plants, make bracelets, create a new wine. Wilson has to be careful because of a back injury, but not long after his surgery, I saw him biking in the neighborhood. Keep moving. Be like Wilson.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts