Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Poetry in Pictures

A friend and I went walking in a Chesterfield County park that I have never been to. I went with my camera in search of a good spot to photograph a family on Saturday and my friend, Tasha, joined me in search of material to inspire her to write. We both were looking to nature as our muse to create and connect, and maybe also to disconnect and be still. Our self-proposed homework (in attempts to encourage each other to write), was to record our observations about the park, in whatever style writing that seemed fit. Tasha spoke of poems forming in her head. I captured images through my camera, as this is the best way I can tell my story. 

My grandmother was a poet, she could recite most any poem with such grace and gravitas in her grandmotherly voice. I was always amazed by her memory of every line and author, but more intrigued by her innate love of poems, for hers was a love I did not share. I found poetry liking to word puzzles and riddles, I did not enjoy translating meaning nor really understood the appeal. I suppose some people may feel the same about photography. 

Despite being poetically challenged, a wave of familiar words floated through my head as we walked. I remember my grandmother reciting this particular poem and the words have been engrained in my memory. 


Nothing Gold Can Stay 
by Robert Frost

Nature's first green is gold, 
Her hardest hue to hold.

Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.

Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,

So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

I think of this poem when I feel life going by too quickly or if I want to speed up time or slow it down. It helps me to try and be a little more present, a little more aware of the golden moments. Maybe I am a closet poetry lover after all. 


Love & Light,
Stacy












Someone left their cigarettes on the bridge. I just thought it was an interesting shot.


I imagine that this is similar to what Dorothy saw (above) when she opened the door out of her black and white world into Munchkin Land.



Which way do you go?


If this building could talk, I would love to hear its story.



I love photographing windows.




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