Tuesday, January 18, 2011

the wild deer call

my sense
of
the sparse
and partitioned
experiencing
of mid-winter
that i know
is that
if
i hold tightly
to colour and form
no matter how small
a quantity
of each
is present
i will also hold
more tightly

to my self



the wilderness is shadowed with white new-flying snow.

a hundred birds from an empty mountain scatter and return;
three thousand miles of floating clouds darken and lighten;
a wildgoose fledgling, left behind, cries for its flock,
then river waves are calmed
and birds are mute that were singing,
like a long wind swaying a forest, a downpour breaking tiles,
a cascade through the air, flying over tree-tops.

...a wild deer calls to his fellows.


words excerpted from "on hearing dong play the flageolet - a poem to palace attendant fang" by li qi

18 comments:

aguja said...

Beautiful, evocative words so seamlessly woven in with the photographs.

Tess Kincaid said...

I find the grayscale palette of winter so soothing. It makes me appreciate the colors of spring all the more. Lovely post.

steven said...

aguja thankyou. these are the early challenging days of winter for me. we've been blessed with more light than usual but the other features of winter start to gnaw deeper. steven

steven said...

tess i'm with you - i have to see with much wider eyes to find the little splashes of colour. they are muted and pale but there they are. steven

Pauline said...

though winter colors don't flaunt themselves the way summer colors do, they are still there, muted and haunting as one lone goose calling. lovely post, steven

Ruth said...

I know I'm considered strange by some, that I find the starkness of winter very appealing. But I don't suffer from light deprivation as some do, and that would be hard. I do love the golds, especially, of the dried stubble in these farmlands around me. It's so good to see things with fresh eyes and hold them closely, and understand them. Whatever that means.

Reya Mellicker said...

Tess I feel exactly the same way. Winter is a relief. Quiet, sweet.

Jo said...

Yes, Steven. Monet called it "the season of blues." He used a palette of blues and grays and violets to describe the many moods of mid-winter.

Several of my recent blog posts have been about the winter color scheme (or lack thereof). A few weeks back I was enamored of the pewter skies and textured landscape.

Now I find myself yearning for color...I suppose that's to be expected. When the jonquils finally burst through the earth, I will be delirious with joy.

Thanks for another beautiful post.

Kay said...

how i envy your holding tight to yourself.....i find i flap more the closer i look!!!x

Dulce said...

This is such a way to possitive thinking- oh- no mater the white, steven
bright colours you can deepely write.
dulce

Friko said...

nature at once beautiful and harshly cruel.

steven said...

friko - there are shades of grey and then also the entire spectrum in-between those two extremes of course but the dance right at the surface is binary. steven

steven said...

dulce - there are times - well they aren't times but we locate them in time - when things go wobbly and it's hard to see the goodness but it's there. right there. very vividly there. hidden behind the greyness. steven

steven said...

kay - i go quieter as things get more challenging, when beauty is harder to find, when goodness hides. steven

steven said...

jo i look for little colours. little places where colour is pushing past the surface. it's amazing how the discovery of a paler version of a colour can bring real excitement. real satisfaction. steven

steven said...

reya- it's quiet and sweet and then also it's roaring and joist cracking and face tearing and sharp and metallic. but walk into a woods or watch through a window onto an evening snowfall and it's the deepest sweetest calm. oh my. steven

steven said...

ruth - in my own home i am the loner who finds things in winter that are beautiful and fragile and lovely and then also i accept as i mentioned in my comment to reya above - the very fine edge that winter has about it. i don't think you're strange for enjoying it. i feel the loss of light more keenly in february than january so it's coming. watch for the tone of my posts to adjust!!!! steven

steven said...

pauline - it's the quietest sound, the most muted colour, the softest of textures. the sensory experience that is winter. a scent of woodsmoke hanging as the snow crunches beneath your feet. the moon as clear as the bottom of a glass. steven