Most of our city streets
are lined with elms,
old and graceful, while wind scatters their golden leaves
But this is a prairie town
where trees need to be planted.
this flower
bloomed colourful relief
as cars, trucks, buses, service vans rushed by, stirring days end dust, road noise ignored
by these cheery little flowers.
“Flowers are for our souls to enjoy.”
~ Sioux proverb
Purple and bright
the ornamental plum trees
release them to the sidewalk
unless a bird or squirrel
samples nature’s wares.
As I walk I am graced
above and below
with the offerings.
Not always pleased by
those little purple plums
on the sidewalk, squished
by the many passers by,
I can’t avoid contributing to
the purple nubbly carpet.
“I think of trees and how simply they let go.”
~ May Sarton,
novelist, poet and memoirist
(1912 ~ 1995)
 |
| Wascana Lake Bird Sanctuary Regina, Saskatchewan |
the language of birds
music that makes trees
sing in staccato chirps
“There is a peculiar virtue in the music of elusive birds.”
~ Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac
 |
| Regina ~ July, 2023 |
This morning, I watched them ~ three little darlings scampering across the street. The boldest already racing up the first available tree. The middle ‘child’ was merely following along. The last one was still in the middle of the road trying to decide which way to turn to avoid the huge white monster bearing down on it. All three made it to safety. I turned away to get my coffee and to read. Silence was broken by the very busy rustling of the tree out front. I didn’t leap to my feet, but had to satisfy my curiosity. There they were the three red young-un’s, tails flashing, racing up, down, every single branch from one tree to the next. So fast that I could not get a photo of the flying three. Back to my book. A very loud, abrupt and insistent chitter stopped all the leafy noise. I could only assume that mom was calling her wayward kids home for lunch!
“Well, it may be humorous to you,
but it’s a very serious matter to the squirrels.”
~ Lisa Kleypas, author
Furies of wind tossed
winter debris hither and yon
threatened to make kites
of dust covers
in yards and balconies
danced with branches
freed into airborne rain
new leaves opened
into the wet wildness
squirrels, cats and birds
abandoned sidewalks and trees
electric technologies snatched
into silent darkness
neighbours together-ed
for reassurance and laughter.
“Wind tries to show Tree how to run wild.
Tree: “I cannot leave this place.”
Wind: “Then let’s dance.”
~ Terri Guillemets, writer
Squirrels peek around trees
or stare from a branch
Dogs adore everyone
Big brown eyes melt us all
Cats - well, they sleep.
Or insist with their eyes
This tree looks at the world
peaceful and watching.
“There is, I conceive, scarcely any tree that may not be advantageously
used in the various combinations of form and colour.”
~ Gilpin
 |
Initials carved
on a tree trunk
~ loving scars
the tree never forgets.
“Trees are as close to immortality as the rest of us ever come.”
~ Karen Joy Fowler,
(author of the Jane Austen Book Club)
A leaning tower built by nature
ring by ring from wood
home to insects and birds,
a playground for squirrels
one tree along forested streets.
“No matter how beautiful architecture men can make,
they will never create such a wonderful things as a tree.”
~ Pier Luigi Nervi, Italian engineer and architect
(Jun 1891 - to Jan 1979)
There are tree experts that
could tell me what these
crusty brown growths are.
I suspect they are buds
~ for new leaves?
Rather like all of us
as we grow. We get
crusty with new knowledge
mixed with old lessons.
As leaves and blossoms
emerge the crusts fall to the
ground, the protection for
new growth no longer needed.
“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”
~ Anaïs Nin, author
Too fast
Too much
But never enough
Do the trees ever wonder?
The green grass just grows.
And beneath the soil
Life goes on.
Slow walk
With grace
There is always enough
“True inward quietness…is not vacancy, but stability
- the steadfastness of a single purpose.”
~ Caroline Emelia Stephen,
(1834 ~ 1909)
Walking dusty streets where
left over snow banks and
puddles shrink, rivulets
of winter water drain
down opened drains
steadies my pace so
I stay in the sun, loving
the swing in my step.
All signs of spring on
the prairies; fresh faced
flowers and greening trees
will take centre stage soon.
“The prairie is.”
~ W.O.Mitchell,
Who Has Seen the Wind
