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I went on a very enjoyable hike with the dogs today, took all sorts of photos, and now can’t find the USB cord (again). So I’ve rifled through the many, many photos on my computer to find something to brighten the blog again and found these winter landscapes. 
That last shot is the sun setting behind the hockey rink. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I love the color and the light in the winter.
Here’s a nice poem, though it’s not yet February:
FEBRUARY: THE BOY BREUGHEL by Norman Dubie
The birches stand in their beggar's row: Each poor tree Has had its wrists nearly Torn from the clear sleeves of bone, These icy trees Are hanging by their thumbs Under a sun That will begin to heal them soon, Each will climb out Of its own blue, oval mouth; The river groans, Two birds call out from the woods And a fox crosses through snow Down a hill; then, he runs, He has overcome something white Beside a white bush, he shakes It twice, and as he turns For the woods, the blood in the snow Looks like the red fox, At a distance, running down the hill: A white rabbit in his mouth killed By the fox in snow Is killed over and over as just Two colors, now, on a winter hill: Two colors! Red and white. A barber's bowl! Two colors like the peppers In the windows Of the town below the hill. Smoke comes From the chimneys. Everything is still. Ice in the river begins to move, And a boy in a red shirt who woke A moment ago Watches from his window The street where an ox Who's broken out of his hut Stands in the fresh snow Staring cross-eyed at the boy Who smiles and looks out Across the roof to the hill; And the sun is reaching down Into the woods Where the smoky red fox still Eats his kill. Two colors. Just two colors! A sunrise. The snow.
Poor Thumper…
Is there anything as beautiful as birch trees against a brilliant blue winter sky? Last year at this time I was driving through a snowy birch forest on a sunny day and I cried it was so beautiful. Pathetic, I know.
Lovely photos and interesting poem. I agree w/ Catherine – poor Thumper.
I hope someone takes photos to show the rest of us unfortunates who can’t join you next week. I’m sure it will be really interesting and fun.
Ann – I forgot to ask you yesterday: Where does Lulu hang out when you and the other 3 dogs are beddesking? Is she in the bedroom in her own bed, or is she off somewhere else just pining for Denis? I love that dog!
Linda S.
I love the pics!! So Gorgeous! I got as far as when you had written FEBRUARY: THE BOY BREUGHEL by Norman Dubie…. and yes Ann, you know what I did next…….
Hello, hello!
I posted one this morning, in ‘betweening’ yours, and it went somewhere (else).
And yes, where does Lulu hang out when not with the group?
It is raining in Southern California…
Linda, she’s on her bed on the floor. She can’t get up on bed because of hips. Which is a blessing, because she’s a big girl.
I love the picture of the rink. It reminds me of “Ice Castles.” (Yes, I have it on DVD. Robby Benson was H.O.T.)
Just saw this post, and was going to run right over to facebook to warn Bev, but I see I’m too late. Sorry Bev! lolol I tried, but the poem was too long for me to get all the way through. Still poetry challenged.
Paula, it’s not pathetic to cry at such beauty. Sob away! It’s good for you.
Linda, I, along with others, will have my camera with me on Saturday. We’re all pretty excited. A blogger’s outing. It’s supposed to be quite cold on Saturday, so we may all have that frozen look about us. It’s better than Botox,I’d say.
Have a wonderful time on Saturday everyone! And Ann, good luck! I can’t wait to hear all about it.
P.S. Paula, I cry at the beauty of the gray choppy ocean when it is stormy. (Don’t tell anyone.)
I thought the poem rather sad, I don’t much like the blood on the snow. I can not stop with Rebecca, so good.
Ann – Glad to hear that Lulu is in the bedroom with you and the other dogs. I just love that dog!
Good luck on Saurday. I hope you all have a wonderful time and will look forward to seeing the photos.
Linda S.
Love the pictures……still not a poetry lover. So, I’ll just enjoy the pictures and skip the poem. And….despite the beauty of the scenes, I’m eagerly awaiting spring.
Guadalupe — it never rains in California, but girl don’t they warn ya, it pours, man it pours . . . I’m better with lyrics than poetry, I like the rhyming.
Sigh. Nature is beautiful . . . but cruel.
Speaking of cruel, did anyone catch “Hoarders” last night? The poor hoarders were totally harangued into hurrying the clean-up. I know it is a TV show, and the producers are on a tight schedule and need a “before” and “after” but I would like to see one of these hoarders demand a little respect.
I prefer the term “preservationist” to hoarder (when talking about myself, anyways), and to see the convoy of “Got Junk” trucks roll in and out, and these people who look like they are stressed physically as well as mentally be pushed to part with their belongings chaps my hide.
I know the rules of reality TV, but last night seemed a little harsh.
Not one of my favorite poems. I agree–poor Thumper! It really does have a chilling quality, doesn’t it?
Catherine, I love the ocean in winter, too. I also love it in spring, summer and fall.
Sandra, I’m with you, ocean every day every season. Nothing better.
Tracy, Virtual Bubble Wrap: very good for when you can’t pop the real thing. (Manic Mode is truly the only way to go.) And yes, it pretty much only benefits the popper. Perhaps it will become like smoking, as DL said so long ago “alone, at home in the dark, in a closet, with a blanket over your head.”
Yes all, do take photos of the up coming event. Those of us who can’t attend thank you in advance.
Ann, the photos were so lovely. I, like some others, saw the poem and was tempted to just skip over it, but I forced myself to read the entire thing. Didn’t really love it, but I read it, beginning to end. I shoved the red and white images from my mind and instead concentrated on the face of the boy. You continually enrich our lives.
AWESOME poem!!! I guess after witnessing an event between a fox and a turkey, I am not so disturbed by this fox’s easy catch. The hungry one isn’t always so blessed with an easy meal. Such contrast and stark reality! Sometimes beauty is a perilous encounter, not always enjoyed, but appreciated and respected…yin and yang.
Love the pics…especially the sunset…I’m a sucker fora beautiful sunset. Glad Lulu is back with you…I was getting worried. Must backtrack, have no clue who “thumper” is. Home today, my “boys” are ill. I love them both dearly but all I’ve heard is MOOOMMMM and ROOOOSie since 3 am. Daddy got creative with dinner last night…obviously I must make something before I leave for work for them to ingest.PLEEEEEase take pics from your field trip. I’ll check in later between loads of laundry. Banished to outside to go have a cigarette, with my cup of tea in my lovley emsemble of sweats,sneakers and pony tail…Hopefully the neighbors aren’t paying attention, they usually don’t see me until it’s at least 60 degrees LOL
Ann, you can change the number of links allowable in a post before WP tags it as potential spam. The default setting is 2. Look under: WP admin> Settings > Discussion.
Beautiful sunset pix!
Great photos! I love sunsets. I actually saw a lovely sunrise this morning while waiting for the train. Lovely visual with the mountains right there. Too bad I had to go to work!
I read the entire poem, and actually chuckled a little bit – we had our first “gift” last night from our indoor/ outdoor cat, Mojo. He left us a lovely mouse in the basement by our shoes. Hubby didn’t know what to do so he picked it up with a bunch of paper towels and then held it away from his body like it was about to bite him! Then he muttered something about Fievel the mouse and I’m praising Mojo for keeping the vermin at bay. No blood, but it reminded me of that incident anyway!
What beautiful, beautiful winter photos! Thanks for sharing those.
Interesting poem. From art classes in college I dimly remembered Brueghel (the Dutch artist mentioned in the title, and presumably the boy in the poem) as being a painter of odd, early landscapes. I just looked him up and learned that he is considered perhaps the first Western painter of landscapes for their own sake (that is, not as historical or allegorical subjects).
Seeing his work again, I’m as put off as I was years ago by the creepiness of many of his paintings, but now I do find a stark, dead-on beauty in some of the winter landscapes, where you can practically feel the cold air and hear the snap of sticks in the quiet woods. Still, though several such works include happy scenes of people ice-skating, to me it’s disturbing that the artist seems to make a point of also being sure to include some more grisly aspect to ambush the careful observer, such as hunters in the woods or a bird trap. So maybe that’s the kind of mix this poet was going for, with the wonderfully painted winter scene leading to the blood on the snow? But personally I can do without the blood on the snow too, like many of you. In my mind it represents a kind of trap that I think some artists (of all kinds) fall into, where it seems they feel the need to force dark or shocking elements into their work purely as if to say, “See how artistic and non-sentimental I am?”
Geez, I’m really blathering now. Sorry for the long post. Some days I’ll do just about anything to put off working! (smiley face)
Thanks for the poem & pics, Ann. I may be in the minority, but I really, really love poetry days! Re: the photos…I know they are winter pics, but the light/color make me think of late winter/early spring and even though they are dark(ish), they are hopeful…a hint of the longer days to come. Very, very nice!
Your next laptop should have a slot for your camera card. It’s so much easier – you’ll never lose the card because it has to go directly back into the camera.