1058. The poetry of the earth is never dead… ~John Keats

February 5, 2016 by nataliescarberry

Let us love winter, for
it is the spring of genius.
~Pietro Aretino

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Scripture tells us that God rested on the 7th day, and so we see that He deems rest as an essential element of well being. Earth’s life cycles would simply not be sustainable without rest, and that’s what winter is designed for. This rhythm of restfulness and then liveliness is visible in more than just springtime’s revival though; for example, we see it in the yielding of daylight to darkness, wakefulness to sleep, and noisiness to silence. Relaxation leads to revitalization and health, and that’s why Creation’s repetitive patterns of repose and continuation have been described as the holy rituals of sacred restful sacraments. Although loving winter, especially when we are in its most extreme throes, is challenging, the good news is that Yahweh, the lovable Genius behind winter, built into it things that keep us hopeful. One such thing is this lenten rose that I found blooming near my back fence. In the already cleared ground and warmed by autumn’s leafy debris its pink flowers are rising above the foliage and standing there “pretty as a picture” as they say. Perhaps the hellebore bloomed a bit earlier than usual because what little winter we’ve had here has been mild, very mild so far. It’s just early February and yet there were days last week and more coming next week with highs in the mid-to-high 70‘s. Thus my wondrous, little lenten rose is truly a “verse” of poesy penned by the now sleeping earth, and it is manifest proof that “the poetry of the earth” is, as Keats said, never dead.

By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done. ~Genesis 2:2-3 ✝

1050. Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks. ~Plutarch

January 28, 2016 by nataliescarberry

I would define, in brief,
the poetry of words as
the rhythmical creation of beauty.
~Edgar Allan Poe

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Musical Notation: 1 The physicality of the religious poets should not be taken idly.  He or she, who loves God, will look most deeply into His works. Clouds are not only vapor, but shape, mobility, silky sacks of nourishing rain. The pear orchard is not only profit, but a paradise of light. The luna moth, who lives but a few days, sometimes only a few hours, has a pale green wing whose rim is like a musical notation. Have you noticed?

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We had a dog once that adored flowers; no matter how briskly she went through the fields, she must stop and consider the lilies, tiger lilies, and other blossoming things along her way. Another dog of our household loved sunsets and would run off in the evenings to the most western part of the shore and sit down on his haunches for the whole show, that pink and peach colored swollenness. Then home he would come trotting in the alpenglow, that happy dog. ~Mary Oliver

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands. Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge. They have no speech, they use no words; no sound is heard from them. Yet their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world. ~Psalm 19:1-4 ✝

**All images via Pinterest; collages by Natalie

869. What a lovely thing a rose is! ~Arthur Conan Doyle

September 12, 2015 by nataliescarberry

A rose is an argument.
It proclaims the triumph of beauty over brutality,
of gentleness over violence, of the ephemeral over the lasting,
and of the universal over the particular.
~Alain Meilland of the
Meilland Rose Growing Company of France

How perfectly and neatly opens the pink rose
this bright morning, the sun warm
on my shoulders, its heat on the opening petals.
Possibly it is the smallest, the least important event
at this moment in the whole world.
Yet I stand there, utterly happy.
~Mary Oliver

A happy heart makes the face cheerful… ~ Excerpt from Proverbs 15:13 ✝

**Image via Pinterest

850. Colors are the smiles of nature. ~Leigh Hunt

August 25, 2015 by nataliescarberry

blue
ocean
sky
peaceful
like the soothing calm of falling rain

pink
sweet side of red
dreamy
innocent
like the charming smell of roses

purple
rich
dark
silken
like melting chocolate on the tongue

There was a flowery mixing of pink and blue and purple yesterday
Making of the yard a purplicious, pinkish, bluish sort of palette.
The innocence of pale pink was tinged with bolder magenta
While a sparkly pink sat mid-throat in a deep blue morning glory
Thrilling the bees and me almost as much as the pink chiffon of dusk and
The heavenly shades of night’s deep purple fallingl over sleepy garden walls.
~Natalie Scarberry

That which we love as purple by any other name would be just as grand:
Threads of amethyst in the divine tapestry interwoven upon demand.
The winter of life is embellished in buoyant dimensions of purple strands.
Like in The Color Purple, I wander through in purple pastures when I can.
Each majestic mauve and passive purple proves there’s no need to be sad.
Were the world mine, all of Earth’s shores would be rife with purple sand,
And I would request sparkly purple sunshine if nature granted me the chance.
~Edited poem by Ryan John Payne

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast. ~Psalm 139:7-10 ✝

816. There is no spot of ground, however bare and ugly, that cannot be tamed into such a state as may give an impression of beauty and delight. ~Gertrude Jekyll

July 22, 2015 by nataliescarberry

Eeny meeny miny moe
which roses now do I grow…
There are red ones, pink ones,
very, very bright yellow ones,
spotted ones, striped ones,
and  even two-toned ones.

Then there are the apricot
colored ones, and the purplish ones,
the small ones and the big ones,
the old ones and the new ones,
and so, my oh my, how will I ever
choose the ones I want to plant
this time around?

A tree had to be felled along our north fence last fall, and as a result what used to be a relatively shady, and somewhat overgrown and unruly area, is now getting lots and lots of sunshine, so much so in fact that the white azaleas that were planted along there decades ago have all but died now. As sad as they may be it grants me the fun of new ground to be “tamed.” Thus, despite the dreadful heat I’ve been working early in the morning and/or at dusk doing as much as the “taming” as I can do. Now it’s time to call in the strong, younger guys with the big, powerful “taming” devices to do the rest. Then after they come and get their part done, I shall cover the ground with landscaping fabric and in the fall peruse my catalogs to choose what new roses and clematis I want to plant in the new spot of “tamed” ground. Ka-ching, ka-ching, ka-ching is all old James thinks of when I go a’ tamin’ but he sure enjoys his braggin’ rights when people come in our yard. And who am I to deny him such pleasure?! Hee hee!

**Sow righteousness for yourselves, reap the fruit of unfailing love, and break up your unplowed ground; for it is time to seek the Lord, until he comes and showers his righteousness on you. ~Hosea 10:12 ✝

**Some images via Pinterest and some from my archives

767. I think our dreams are held in safe-keeping within our souls, and when fulfilled, tears are the happy release of the “minding.” ~Masked Native at: http://maskednative.com/

June 10, 2015 by nataliescarberry

There is sacredness in tears.
They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues.
They are messengers of overwhelming grief,
irrepressible joy,
deep contrition,
and unspeakable love.
~Adapted quote
by Washington Irving

I want to start off by thanking all of you who read the daily installments of my personal saga about Paris as well as those of you who took the time to comment about my story. I didn’t realize that walking back through the years to tell about the events that lead up to our trip in 2013 and the one we’ll be making again soon, would bring about a kind of catharsis which ultimately defined and released long held emotions about things in my past.

However, now I realize more than ever how important it is that people share their personal stories, the things that make us who and what we are, not only for the impact they’ve had and continue to have on us, but also because others may find release, healing, encouragement, assurances, etc. in our narratives. We are, after all, a composite of everything that happens to us as well as the resulting influence of all those who cross our paths.

Several years ago I ordered some morning glory seeds from a catalog, and another packet of a different kind of morning glories was thrown in as a bonus. However, that bonus package got lost at the bottom of my seed-storage box until I discovered it again earlier in spring. So I sowed the seeds, “et voilà,” here it is. Isn’t it lovely? I’ve never seen a morning glory like this one, but I think I’m falling in love with its cute, pink and white curlicues.

Although in France they don’t associate the color pink with the city of Paris, imagery around the turn of the last century (the Belle Époque) as well as later images in the media and Paris-themed feminine merchandise, the color pink does continue to be associated with Paris elsewhere in the world. So I’m calling this frilly little pink posy my “Parisienne Glory,” and I pray that it blesses your eyes. Love, Natalie

Those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy. ~Psalm 126:5 ✝

748. Red is passion-lit, orange is flowerageous, yellow is suntastic, pink is lipsensual, green is lifebursting, blue is skyful, purple is berrydancing, gray is cloudrainy. ~Terri Guillemets

May 28, 2015 by nataliescarberry

Beauty is the adjustment of all parts
proportionately so that one cannot add
or subtract or change without
impairing  the harmony of the whole.
~Leon B. Alberti

To conquer a piece of earth and make it as beautiful
as one can dream of it being: That is art, too.
A man cannot be separated from the earth.
I come out of the garden every day feeling,
oh, inspired in a way that one needs
in order to convert the daily-ness of the life
into something greater than that little life itself.
~Stanley Kunitz

Nothing is more the child
of art than a garden.
~Sir Walter Scott

But who can paint
like Nature?
Can imagination boast,
amid its gay creation,
hues like hers?
~James Thomson

Nature is painting for us,
day after day,
pictures of infinite beauty.
~James Russell Lowell

If you ask me what I came
to do in this world,
I, an artist, will answer you:
I am here to live out loud.
~Emile Zola

My garden is the canvas
upon which nature paints,
and in it I daily toil.
With my camera in hand
at other times,
I let live  Yahweh’s art
out loud!
~Natalie Scarberry

Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are al the work of your hand. ~Isaiah 64:8 ✝

**I took all these photos of flowers blooming in my yard.

716. Beauty deprived of its proper foils and adjuncts ceases to be enjoyed as beauty, just as light deprived of all shadows ceases to be enjoyed as light. ~John Ruskin

April 27, 2015 by nataliescarberry

The peonies bloom, white and pink.
And inside each, as in a fragrant bowl,
A swarm of tiny beetles have their conversation,
For the flower is given to them as their home.
~Czeslaw Milosz

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready
to break my heart
as the sun rises,
as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open —
pools of lace,
white and pink —
and all day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes
into the curls,
craving the sweet sap,
taking it away

to their dark, underground cities —
and all day
under the shifty wind,
as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,
and tip their fragrance to the air,
and rise,
their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness
gladly and lightly,  and there it is again —
beauty, the brave, the exemplary,  blazing open.
~Excerpt from Mary Oliver’s
peom about peonies

My mother and her sister, my Aunt Johnnie, had a knack with peonies. Theirs always bloomed year after year, even when they moved them around the yard even though the experts say they need to be put in the ground and left alone. I, on the other hand, have done exactly that and yet mine only seem to bloom when that have a mind too. And I was thrilled to see that this was the year for two of them to actually have a few blooms. But all the rains and storms we’ve had have taken a toll on their beautiful blooms, and so I was able to get only a few pictures as you can see in my collage above. The lighter one has the most heavenly fragrance, and it’s such a delight to go out in the morning or the late afternoon and be greeted by its sweet aroma. Sadly it suffered more from the rain and storms, and so I blurred the outer edges a bit to cover up some of its browning spots.

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind! Blow on my garden, that its fragrance may spread everywhere. Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits. ~Song of Songs 4:16 ✝

706. Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king… ~Thomas Nashe

April 17, 2015 by nataliescarberry

The rose is a flower of love.
The world has acclaimed it for centuries.
Pink roses are for love hopeful and expectant.
White roses are for love, dead or forsaken,
but the red roses, all the red roses,
are for love triumphant.
~Author Unknown

Beauty is a form of genius –
is higher, indeed, than genius,
as it needs no explanation.
It is of the great facts in the world
like sunlight, or springtime,
or the reflection in dark water
of that silver shell we call the moon.
~Oscar Wilde

Earth, my dearest, I will. Oh believe me, you no longer need your springtimes to win me over – one of them, ah, even one, is already too much for my blood. Unspeakably, I have belonged to you, from the first. ~Rainer Maria Rilke

Rilke took the words right out of my mouth! Earth is all we have, and it is more than enough, to bring us back to the Lord who made it. Every bit of it–every creature, every flower, every tree, simply everything speaks of God’s glory and His love so that we cannot resist looking for Him and listening for His voice. It was part of His plan, and it works well for to belong to the earth is to belong to Him. These two photos are the last in my series of yard photos from my recliner. The first is a close up of the small pink roses on the arch over the little porch outside my studio. The second is farther away from that arch so you can see the size of a Cécile Brünner climbing rose somewhat. Below it and in the background, the darker pink roses are on top of the smaller arch leading to the secret garden at the very back of my yard. The third one can’t be seen from my recliner. It, the entrance to the backyard, fills the window here by my computer with yet another pink climbing rose.

The highest heavens belong to the Lord, but the earth He has given to mankind. ~Psalm 115:16 ✝

703. Well-apparel’d April on the heel of limping Winter treads. ~William Shakespeare

April 14, 2015 by nataliescarberry

…Thus in each flower and simple bell,
That in our path untrodden lie,
Are sweet remembrancers who tell
How fast the winged moments fly.
Time will steal on with ceaseless pace,
Yet lose we not the fleeting hours,
Who still their fairy footsteps trace,
As light they dance among the flowers.
~Charlotte Turner Smith

First there came yellow,
soft and dotted, next to buds
on a pretty rose

Then appeared a pink
hibiscus with emboldened
stamen and pollen

Next a huge orange
rose with a touch of pink in
her heart’s center

At last there was a
wee rose who bore all shades
amid glossy green
~All haikus by written by
Natalie after a trip, camera in hand,
to a local nursery

I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name. ~Isaiah 45:3 ✝

Sacred Touches

Life is a time of purpose and anointed blossoming…

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