Breakheart

Breakheart Reservation, Massachusetts

The first time I've heard of the Park is from two ladies we have met on Fells... Breakheart... a strange name for a park. The legend says that the  Civil War soldiers training in the area found it "lonely and remote" thus breaking their hearts... This, certainly, is a good reason for a visit...

Just Blow

Fresh Pond, Cambridge, Massachusetts

Dandelions... I love to see them on spring meadows... sprinkles of yellows over greens... and when the time comes... cloudy balls of tiny seeds... I remember, as a child, when we kids enjoyed blowing into these balls and watching the seeds fly off to the air...with smiles... not knowing that this was exactly what these tiny seeds were waiting for...

Mastering Mimicry

Fells Reservation, Massachusetts

Suddenly, little frog jumps out of the way... and stops... exposed yet perfectly hidden...

Spring Renewal

Fells Reservation, Massachusetts

Green again...
Young leaves... not yet touched by crawly munchers...
Flowers appear hidden... until wished to be seen...
Pollen dusted silvery surfaces of vernal pools...  and THIS otherworldly feeling...
Jubilant pines... adorned with young shoots and pollen cones...

Those leaves... and my oxygen driven life...
Breathe in and out... to leaves... breathe in and out... back to me... to leaves... back to me... to leaves...
FOREVER...

This is Her Home

Mass Audubon Ipswich River Wildlife Sanctuary, Massachusetts

Trees and Birds... their melodic chit-chat suffuses the place... Muddy trails. Board walks. Lily ponds... A turtle over here... sunbathing. A duck over there... napping. Lazy river at a standstill... or it seems... Geese in high grass... lurking... THIS Swampy Feeling... and Birds love IT...

... I derive more of my subsistence from the swamps which surround my native town than from the cultivated gardens in the village... Why not put my house, my parlor, behind this plot, instead of behind that meager assemblage of curiosities, that poor apology for Nature and Art, which I call my front yard?... Yes, though you may think me perverse, if it were proposed to me to dwell in the neighborhood of the most beautiful garden that ever human art contrived, or else of a Dismal Swamp, I should certainly decide for the swamp...

HENRY DAVID THOREAU