roots and leaves themselves alone

Welcome spring in all its glory

Roots and leaves themselves alone are these,
Scents brought to men and women from the wild woods and pond-side,
Breast-sorrel and pinks of love, fingers that wind around tighter
than vines,
Gushes from the throats of birds hid in the foliage of trees as the
sun is risen,
Breezes of land and love set from living shores to you on the living
sea, to you O sailors!
Frost-mellow’d berries and Third-month twigs offer’d fresh to young
persons wandering out in the fields when the winter breaks up,
Love-buds put before you and within you whoever you are,
Buds to be unfolded on the old terms,
If you bring the warmth of the sun to them they will open and bring
form, color, perfume, to you,
If you become the aliment and the wet they will become flowers,
fruits, tall branches and trees.

Walt Whitman ~ Leaves of Grass, 1855

Wolf Kahn ~ From Emily Foard’s Photograph II, 2013

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spring cleaning

For a few mornings now, I’ve been serenaded by the sweet sound of baby Robins…their masterful nest sits just outside my bedroom window, atop a sturdy old branch in the Magnolia tree…what a priceless gift to be given! This miraculous event has inspired me to re-read the one and only Walden by Henry David Thoreau…as I slowly savor his words, filled with infinite wisdom and unparalleled insights, I find myself sharing my new found discovery with him…a timeless companion if you will, elevating my experience with his ever-present eyes and ears…

It is with his voice in the forefront of my mind that I’d like to share with you one of my favorite excerpts from Walden…it’s quite possibly the most profound description of spring cleaning and outdoor living I’ve ever come across! Wishing you a wonderful spring weekend!

“Housework was a pleasant pastime. When my floor was dirty, I rose early, and, setting all my furniture out of doors on the grass, bed and bedstead making but one budget, dashed water on the floor, and sprinkled white sand from the pond on it, and then with a broom scrubbed it clean and white; and by the time the villagers had broken their fast the morning sun had dried my house sufficiently to allow me to move in again, and my meditations were almost uninterrupted. It was pleasant to see my whole household effects out on the grass, making a little pile like a gypsy’s pack, and my three-legged table, from which I did not remove the books and pen and ink, standing amid the pines and hickories. They seemed glad to get out themselves, and as if unwilling to be brought in. I was sometimes tempted to stretch an awning over them and take my seat there. It was worth the while to see the sun shine on these things, and hear the free wind blow on them; so much more interesting most familiar objects look out of doors than in the house. A bird sits on the next bough, life-everlasting grows under the table, and the blackberry vines run round its legs; pine cones, chestnut burs, and strawberry leaves are strewn about. It looked as if this was the way these forms came to be transferred to our furniture, to tables, chairs and bedsteads, – because they once stood in their midst.” ~ Henry David Thoreau, excerpt from Walden

Top ~ In the Woods by Paul Cezanne, 1900

Bottom ~ In the Woods by Paul Cezanne, 1898

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a spring day

Henry David Thoreau

1855

April 15, 9 A.M. – To Atkin’s boat-house.

No sun till setting. Another still, moist, overcast day, without sun, but all day a crescent of light, as if breaking away in the north. The waters smooth and full of reflections. A still cloudy day like this is perhaps the best to be on the water. To the clouds, perhaps, we owe both the stillness and the reflections, for the light is in great measure reflected from the water. Robins sing now at 10 A.M. as in the morning, and the phoebe; and pigeon woodpecker’s cackle is heard, and many martins (with white-bellied swallows) are skimming and twittering above the water, perhaps catching the small fuzzy gnats with which the air is filled. The sounds of church bells, at various distances, in Concord and the neighboring towns, sounds very sweet to us on the water this still day. It is the song of the villages heard with the song of the birds.

Three Trees in Spring ~ Claude Monet, 1891

Spring ~ Pablo Picasso, 1956

The Cascade in Spring ~ John Henry Twachtman, 1890-1899

Pasture in Bloom ~ Vincent van Gogh, 1887

The first flowers ~ Paul Gauguin, 1888

“Cool” Series No. 80, Impatient Spring ~ Perle Fine, 1963

Spring at Catou ~ Pierre-Auguste Renoir, 1872-1873

Melikhovo at spring ~ Isaac Levitan

Dark and Deep ~ Wolf Kahn

Trees by the Water ~ Paul Cezanne, 1900

Lake, Spring ~ Isaac Levitan, 1898

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happy easter!

Wishing you a Happy Easter and a glorious spring day!

Yesterday the twig was brown and bare;
To-day the glint of green is there;
Tomorrow will be leaflets spare;
I know no thing so wondrous fair,
No miracle so strangely rare.
I wonder what will next be there!
~ L.H. Bailey

Shapes of Spring ~ Milton Avery, 1952

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happy easter!

Wishing you a wonderful weekend and a very Happy Easter!

Esterhazy: The Rabbit Prince (Creative Editions, 1993), written by Irene Dische and Hans Magnus Enzensberger, illustrated by Michael Sowa

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it’s the time of tiny leaves…delicate blossoms

It’s the time of tiny leaves…delicate blossoms…and long graceful catkins…the time of fragile hues…gentle rains…and the glowing days that sunshine brings…

Each leaf in the woods now testifies to the renaissance of life…there is music in the air…and intense activity…

The light…the earth…and waters have brought forth new life…life with all its freedom…its deep mysteries…and joyousness…

excerpt from To those who see by Gwen Frostic

Wishing you a glorious weekend filled with the sights, sounds, and scents of spring!

Eugenijus Zvergzdys

Julie Callison

Karl Green

Victor Russillo

Shannon Torrey

Miles Glynn

Fang Guo

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now…life in all its countless forms is beginning to stir

Now…life in all its countless forms is beginning to stir…timed to the cycle of the sun…each life is born on time…

Eggs of turtles…frogs…and insects are hatching…millions of seeds are sprouting…the things which will not awaken are giving life to those that do…and thereby shall live again this spring…and always…

The sun is higher…the days are longer…and the magic of spring has touched every living thing…each…attuned to life…is ready to rise in a mystical kinship with beauty…

~ excerpt from To those who see by Gwen Frostic

Katie Finn

Nandita Subhedar

Pam Montazeri

Inne R Hardjanto

Glenn Upton

Jacek Fortuna

Parker Lefton

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robert couturier ~ his connecticut home

In celebration of Veranda‘s March/April 2012 issue, I’m re-posting a favorite from my archives, Robert Couturier’s Connecticut home…I hope the photos and text from this post will enhance your Veranda experience, allowing you to savor the details of his exquisite gardens and interiors…

The four photos above this text are a sneak peek at his garden party from the pages of Veranda…chilled Veuve Clicquot, boiled lobsters glistening with butter and fresh flowers all in a heavenly setting…welcome spring!

above, the formal dining room, photo from Robert Couturier

Every weekend, New York designer Robert Couturier and architectural historian Jeffrey Morgan head north to their pastorale neoclassical country home in Litchfield County, Connecticut. The house is a series of pavilions, complete with an octagonal library and a new wing featuring their state of the art kitchen with GE Monogram appliances. Every detail of the new wing is in keeping with the original home ~ cedar shingle roof, limestone and black slate floors, architectural doors, windows and mouldings. The classically laid out garden features terraced boxwood parterres giving the landscape a year round architectural structure. (it must be breathtaking in the winter!) This heavenly home is a place for them to enjoy nature, family, friends and their beloved shih-tzu’s Hercules, Henriette, and Bess.

“Home is my house in the country. My dogs and my boyfriend are there. Things are of no importance, I mean I like to look at them but things come and go; people don’t. Home is a place where you can rest and I don’t think anything in New York is restful.” ~ Robert Couturier from an interview with New York Social Diary

below, the new kitchen, photo from GE Monogram

below, photos from Robert Couturier

below, photos from House and Garden

below, photos from The Magazine Antiques

below, photos from Architectural Digest French Edition

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happy easter!

mimi and bella with their easter eggs (hard boiled of course!)

bella gave hers a gentle sniff while mimi tried to devour hers!

wishing you and yours a very happy easter!

photos by me, 4/23/11

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spring

Each life is precious – –

unto itself –

from the tiniest insect

to the greatest tree…..

Vigorously it must protect

its right to be – –

– – – and to become…..

Upon this one obsession

rests – – – –

the continuance of the universe…

excerpt from To those who see – – by Gwen Frostic

photo by me, 4/12/11

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