Photography | Reflections on the Teche

Archive for the ‘Photography’ Category

This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Moonflower

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, tagged #poemsofpresence, #smallpoems, butterfly garden, tobacco hornworm on September 20, 2023| 15 Comments »

Moonflower in the butterfly garden, by Margaret Simon

In May, my student Avalyn took on a project to create a butterfly garden at her school. When I returned to school this week, she couldn’t wait to show me how the garden was doing. It was full of flowers. The largest was this moon flower. My friend Mary had donated a small plant in the spring and now it is huge! Yesterday we found a fat green caterpillar on it and researched. The caterpillar is a tobacco hornworm and will become a moth. We also found gulf fritillary caterpillars on the passion vine. They’ve eaten it all. I have a passion vine in my own butterfly garden that hasn’t been touched. I will bring some cuttings to help these little prickly cats along. Raising butterflies is a Joy!

Today write your own poem in any form about the moon, this flower, garden pests, butterflies, etc.

Tobacco Hornworm Nonet

Moon
flower
night bloomer
bright white fragrance
among the children
feeds tobacco hornworm.
Watch how he chomps on the leaves;
Aggressive eater, camouflaged
soon will burrow to emerge as moth.
Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: September Sunset

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem on September 13, 2023| 42 Comments »

I chose to find beauty every day in the month of September. It’s everywhere, if you look. I’m sharing my photos with #septemberbeauty on Instagram. The photo I chose for today came in a text from my daughter who is overseeing a photo shoot in Florida for her ad agency. She was scheduled to go when Hurricane Idalia arrived.

I am lucky that my three daughters communicate almost daily in a group text with me. They send videos and photos and general check-ins. Last night Martha sent a photo of baby June at 8 months gnawing on a piece of pork. They are in the stage of trying out different foods with her. We all enjoyed the funny image.

Katherine sent a beach sunset photo with the message, “My evening.” We know she is working, so the image is not quite as stress-free as it looks, but I found it beautiful and hopeful.

South Walton Beach, Florida by Katherine Simon

I sit beside you
feel your pain; smooth ruffled fur.
Loving to the end.
Margaret Simon, haiku draft

I didn’t mean to place my sadness here, but poetry is like that. It pulls it out of your soul. My dog of 16 years is dying. I’m struggling to let him go.

Please write a small poem of your own in the comments. Encourage other writers with your comments.

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Phlox with Water droplets

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, tagged #naturepoems, #poemsofpresence, #small poems on August 30, 2023| 41 Comments »

I hope this post finds you happy and healthy and enjoying the last dog days of summer. My friend, fellow teacher-poet Molly Hogan has been getting outside and taking amazing photos in nature. I borrowed this photo from her Facebook page. She identified the flower as phlox. The water droplets transform this image into something new entirely. I’ve been watching a great white egret appear on the bayou each day, so my haiku turns the image to the egret. Use your imagination and write a small poem in the comments. Be sure to read others and encourage with your responses.

Phlox with water droplets by Molly Hogan.

White wings drape water,
bloom droplets of crystal grace
Egret makes no waves
Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Dragonfly

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Writing, tagged #poemsofpresence, dragonfly, haiku, small poems, This Photo Wants to be a Poem on August 9, 2023| 18 Comments »

Deep down south we have many varieties of dragonflies. I love to watch them. They fascinate me and take me away from worry to a place of gratitude. Who doesn’t love a good Google search for meaning?

“Dragonfly’s can be a symbol of self that comes with maturity. They can symbolize going past self-created illusions that limit our growth and ability to change. The Dragonfly has been a symbol of happiness, new beginnings and change for many centuries. The Dragonfly means hope, change, and love.” https://dragonflytransitions.com/why-the-dragonfly

That first sentence grabbed me “self that comes with maturity” because this is the week of my birthday. I will be 62. If there is an age of maturity, I’d go with anything past 50, but now that I’m in my 60’s, stuff keeps happening that requires me to be mature, to change the things I can, and accept the things I cannot change.

Consider writing with us today. You can choose one of the many things that a dragonfly symbolizes or write whatever comes. This is a safe place to explore. Perhaps time yourself for 7-10 minutes. Turn off the critic and let the words flow. Leave encouraging comments for other writers.

Dragonfly dazzles
a dry branch, revealing
self-purity

Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Ripples

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, tagged Mary Lee Hahn, Nikki Grimes, ripple, wandering word poem on August 2, 2023| 29 Comments »

Welcome to this free writing space. If you are moved to write a small poem, leave it in the comments. Support other writers with encouragement.

I made my first cup of coffee and added salt instead of sugar. I hope that doesn’t indicate the kind of day I will have. Some of our actions, thoughts, words do have a ripple effect. Ripples are on my mind today. I chose a photo from Mary Lee Hahn’s Instagram post from Dawes Arboretum in Newark, OH.

Ripple is a specific word. I decided to write a wandering word poem. I first saw this form years ago on Today’s Little Ditty in an interview with Nikki Grimes. You begin with the word you want to write about and then wander about exploring the word and its meaning.

Ripple
is an organized word
without a plan. It’s a matter
of science, how force interacts
with movement, sand or water,
our words or actions. They swell,
fold, curl upon themselves,
spreading infinitely into the universe.
Like a tide that comes in to rest
on your toes, then moves back
leaving tickling sand residue.
When you are the one tossing the pebble,
be careful, be kind. Remember
the ripple.
Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo wants to be a Poem: Color

Posted in Photography, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged #beingmamére, canna lily, color poems, June, mandevilla, red on July 26, 2023| 6 Comments »

What is your favorite color? This is a hard question. Somedays it’s the cyan blue of the sky; others it’s the purple center of a gladiola. Yellow is my favorite color of summer, but I don’t often wear yellow because years ago I had my “colors done” and yellow makes me look pale. I recently asked a friend what her favorite bird was. She first said dunlins for their murmurations, then she said, “house finch.” And finally, after some thought, she texted a photo of Anna’s hummingbird. Do you have a favorite bird?

Today for this photo, think about your favorite color of the moment, and write a Color is poem.

On my back deck I have two red flowers blooming. They seem to be heat resistant. I used the portrait mode on my iPhone to take these photos.

Red is hot
waving in the summer breeze
like a warning flag
to stay inside
and drink iced tea.

Red is June’s skin
so rosy it’s almost purple
as she crawls across the floor
looking back
to smile at Pépère.
Margaret Simon, draft

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Volunteer Zinnia

Posted in Photography, Poetry, Spiritual Growth, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged #poemsofpresence, #smallpoems, Leonard Cohen, zinnias on July 12, 2023| 35 Comments »

Have you ever really focused on a zinnia? They are one of the few flowers that can be grown by seed and withstand high heat. My neighbor, James Edmunds, posted the above photo of a volunteer zinnia. Volunteer means it was not planted by people. It just shows up, and usually in an odd location. I found the one below growing from a crack in a sidewalk.

Zinnia in the sidewalk by Margaret Simon

Reminds me of the Leonard Cohen lyric, “There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.”

I’m also drawn to the flower in a flower of a zinnia’s center. There are multiple florets. These are important to the reproduction of the flower and most likely the cause of volunteers.

Please join me today in musing on zinnias and cracks and light and anything else that is on your mind. Leave a small poem in the comments. Encourage other writers with response comments. Thanks for being here.

Patience

Focus on the crack
Feel the throb of pain
Plant a tiny seed

Believe
someday… light
will reach… in

something… new
will grow.
Margaret Simon, draft

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Spiritual Thursday: Rain-kissed Walk

Posted in Gratitude, Photography, Spiritual Growth, tagged spiritual journey on July 6, 2023| 10 Comments »

Carol Varsalona is hosting Spiritual Journey First Thursday this month. She chose the title: Rejoice in a Sunkissed Summer Season.

“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.”— Ralph Waldo Emerson

I am rebelling a bit against the sunkissed summer. I’ve had enough of the sun. Here in the deep south of Louisiana, the sun has been incessant. On my walk this past weekend, I had to walk from tree shade to tree shade to escape the strong beams of heat. Heat index was over 100 degrees.

Finally, relief came in rain through the night last night. The sound of the rain settled me to sleep. This morning’s walk was shaded by cloud cover. I couldn’t help but sigh a thanks-be-to-God.

I feel powerless against the endlessness of climate change. I could dive into a rant, but I won’t. I’ll just leave these refreshing photos here for a respite and the thought that life will find a way. These photos are a poem. Poems are prayers. God answers prayers.

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This Photo Wants to be a Poem: Fort Pigeon

Posted in Photography, Poetry, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged grief poems, maritime sunburst lichen, Molly Hogan on July 5, 2023| 19 Comments »

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.

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This Photo wants to be a Poem: Crepe Myrtle

Posted in Photography, This Photo Wants to be a Poem, Writing, tagged Crepe Myrtle trees, summer blossoms on June 28, 2023| 21 Comments »

This summer I have been walking every day. It has been fulfilling in more ways than the exercise. I’m getting to know my neighbors. The other day I walked and talked with a former student. He’s all grown up with grown up kids. When did that happen?

This is the time of year that crepe myrtles are in bloom. I played with the Portrait mode on my Iphone camera. I like how this one focuses on the blossoms.