Surprise Peace of Life in Morning Light and by Fox

I can contemplate peace endlessly and never know it as much as when it takes me by surprise.

It’s a beech tree in a wild blueberry patch at the east side of the front yard.  The tree and I have a long history, as with everything in the picture.  Everything.  Long.  Deep.  Immersive relationship history.  Yet on this mid-June morning, they all greeted me as if for the first time.  I’ll just share the new part of the history that began at that moment.

I don’t feel that there is anything especially fantastic about what I saw.  It was the peace it wrought in me, and I’ll never be able to share that except as a mention, with this souvenir of it.

It was damned silly of me to rush back into the house for the camera.  When I got back out there, the light had changed, as rising suns do, and kept changing by the second, and none of it was as beautiful as when I first saw it.

This picture can never be more than a souvenir, especially because it is not a picture of the peace that caught me by surprise when that light and its verdant subjects first poured themselves upon me, into me.

Continue reading

A is for Apple

God did NOT make little green apples. His mother did it.

(As a Naturalist, I have to make that point.)

Balsam_Fir_Trees_20050904_smallFor a place named Balsamea, you might think that A is for Abies balsamea, the scientific name for balsam fir tree, for which I named Balsamea, home of … you guessed it … The Balsamean.

B is for Balsamea.  A is for Apple.

(Why can’t the scientists just call it “balsam fir tree?”)     Continue reading

Nibbles of Balsamea

These little Balsameans (and Adirondack natives) have gathered here for no reason but to please The Balsamean.  Maybe you’ll enjoy it, too.  This is one case where clicking a picture will NOT get you a bigger view.  They are just sample 100-pixel views of SOME of the kinds of spring and summer living entertainment here.  (However, you can magnify with your browser or Windows features.)  These pix were clipped out of bigger ones that are even more beautiful, shot over the past several years, mostly within the past few years.  This show must go on, and it will.  These little Balsameans will perform for as long as we let them and protect them.  The display sequence is random, and will change every time you refresh the page or come back for another visit.  There are about 130 of them.  (All photos by yours truly at Balsamea.)

End of show