21 Friday Sep 2012
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© Joan Currie
Nothing is more fleeting than external form, which withers and alters like the flowers of the field
at the appearance of autumn.- Umberto Eco
I passed these lovely flowers on my walk today – even more beautiful now than when they were in full bloom.
25 Wednesday Jul 2012
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© Joan Currie
I never heard
Of any true affection, but ’twas nipt
With care, that, like the caterpillar, eats
The leaves of the spring’s sweetest book, the rose.
by Middleton
I have a rose for every tender new dream.
11 Wednesday Jul 2012
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Again and Again - However We Know the Landscape of Love, Garden, Hydrangea, Photography, Poetry, Rilke
© Joan Currie
Again and again, however we know the landscape of love
and the little churchyard there, with its sorrowing names,
and the frighteningly silent abyss into which the others
fall: again and again the two of us walk out together
under the ancient tree, lie down again and again
among the flowers, face to face with the sky.
from Again And Again, However We Know The Landscape Of Love by Rilke
Glorious palette of colors, glorious day of love…
26 Thursday Apr 2012
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© Joan Currie
Longing is like the Seed
That wrestles in the Ground,
Believing if it intercede
It shall at length be found.
Emily Dickinson
Little did I know how long it would take some seeds to emerge.
18 Sunday Mar 2012
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© Joan Currie
Wabi sabi art is a distillation of their [the monks’] humble efforts to try and express, in a physical form, their love of a life balanced against the sense of serene sadness that is life’s inevitable passing.
from wabi sabi, the japanese art of impermanence by Andrew Juniper
Perhaps I find the burst of blossoms so beautiful because it will not last.
16 Thursday Feb 2012
Posted in Art, Garden, Photography, Reflections
© Joan Currie - My Valentine Roses
She comes not when Noon is on the roses —
Too bright is Day.
She comes not to the Soul till it reposes
From work and play.
But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices
Roll in from Sea,
By starlight and by candlelight and dreamlight
She comes to me.
by Herbert Trench
The sweet fragrance of last night lingers…
26 Saturday Nov 2011
Posted in Garden, Photography, Reflections, Writing
© Joan Currie
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.
by Emily Dickinson – Autumn
My garden cherub beholds fall’s dramatic show of color.
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Autumn
10 Saturday Sep 2011
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© Oil painting by Mona Currie
Peonies are the overblown floozies of the garden. – Mona Currie
These flowers are the happiest when they are the center of attention.
17 Wednesday Aug 2011
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© Joan Currie
O my beloved basil, did I not love thee enough?
When we first met, you commanded my attention
Much more than the ruminating rosemary or soulful sage.
Joan Currie
Having returned after many years to gardening, I am captivated by the intricacies of growing, blooming, and propagating. I am also interested in the creation and maintenance of a thriving ecosystem.
There is one herb in my garden that does not get along as it should. At one time, the sweet basil sported a full, fragrant coat of green leaves, but now it lilts to the side like a jaundiced man hanging from the gallows.
For weeks now, I have tried to revive this plant by changing its location from full to partial sun, and administering extra water and organic fertilizer – to no avail. And, although I have always espoused the ethics of care, to my chagrin, I am thinking about sending this cluster of chlorophyll off to the compost heap.
31 Sunday Jul 2011
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© Joan Currie
I myself am quite absorbed by the delicate yellow, delicate soft green, delicate violet of a ploughed and weeded piece of soil. – Vincent van Gogh
I turned away from the shore and discovered another kind of beauty in the riot of flowers bounded by a weathered fence.
Satin & Sand 