The Contours of the Seasons

Sunlight gives a brief nod
to the north of the world
this time of year
as Day is quick to pull her cloak
back around her shoulders,
to doze in darkness again.
But from this Winter Solstice moment,
each new dawn will come earlier,
each sunset will take its leave later,
light will linger a while longer,
anticipating Sunlight’s reign.
All of nature—
cardinals, robins, juncos,
crickets and moths,
elms and hackberries,
even dirt and rocks—
follow the contours of the seasons,
the ebb and flow of light and dark,
the interplay of cold and warmth,
the whims of the wind,
the moods of the rain.
Darkness gives way to light,
cold eases into warmth,
wind calms,
rains soften.
Nature teaches the rhythms of life.
If I pause to feel her heartbeat,
listen to the whisper of her breath,
match my steps to the dance of Time,
then when sunlight gives a brief nod
at this dark time of year,
I smile and nod back.
-kh-

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © Karyn Henley 2024. All rights reserved.

Not the Off-Hand “Thanks”

 

“Nature calms me,” said my grandson

as he stepped into his backyard,

left the stress of the school day,

entered the grace of afternoon.

I wish I had been that wise

when I was seven.

But nature is a patient teacher and

waited years for me to

pause at the call of a cardinal,

linger over the unfolding coneflower,

inhale the scent of honeysuckle,

finger the curling bark of the crape myrtle,

taste the wild strawberry,

settle my soul.

Nature waited years for me to be

deeply grateful,

and for me,

that’s where true peace begins.

I can’t imagine peace without gratitude—

not the off-hand, easily tossed “thanks”

but the gratitude that has no words,

the awe of a heart

full of the richness of being.

There is, of course, a dark side,

the underside of living,

but that’s all the more reason

to follow the wisdom of a seven-year-old

and at least once in a while

step into the grace

of Nature.

-kh-

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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‎Text and photos © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

If I Take the Hint

 

As I stepped outside,

a swirl of white petals—cherry blossoms—

floated down like snowflakes,

settled silently at my feet.

My yard has no cherry trees,

but a neighbor’s yard does,

and the wind has lifted them,

drifted them,

gifted them to me,

celebrating the world reborn.

So many of Spring’s gifts are small—

a yard carpeted in violets,

forsythia gone wild with yellow blooms,

shadows of breeze-blown trees

rippling like creek water in dawn’s lemony light.

But truly, I see the world reborn

any time I pause,

from reliving

or preliving

and begin, instead, just living,

noticing the moment—

for a moment—

which is all I can manage

most of the time.

But Nature has a way of nudging me into

the Now—

white petals flutter past,

shadows ripple in lemon light,

long-limbed forsythia waves in the wind.

If I take the hint,

I am also reborn,

and each step I take

can be

the first.

– kh –

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

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Text and photos © 2024 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Flames of Spring Green

 

This morning my hydrangea,

bedraggled and brown,

decided Spring has arrived.

Each spindly stem,

lined with loose withered leaves,

has become a spindly candle

topped with a tiny flame of

spring-green leaves.

I shake my head. It’s December.

Doesn’t Nature know better than to

leaf out

when Winter is just days away?

Nature whispers, Enjoy my candles,

my hope,

resilience,

renewal,

reawakening,

untethered to season.

Nature is budding

just for the joy of it.

Yesterday, someone asked me,

How old are you?

Seventy-one, I told him.

Really—he said—I wouldn’t have guessed.

Really.

Yes, really.

But I, like my hydrangea,

have decided that Spring has come.

–kh–

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Silenced by the Sea in the Wind

 

On a windy day,

if I close my eyes and open my ears,

I live beside the sea,

though this sea is only waves of wind

surging and ebbing,

a rolling surf of air

swishing through pine needles,

washing over elm leaves,

splashing the fronds of bamboo.

It’s the nature of Nature

to echo herself,

the sea in the wind and the wind in the sea.

Or a bird that chirps like a yipping dog

(or perhaps it’s the dog who yips like the bird).

A leaf that echoes the shape of wings,

wings that echo the shape of feathers,

feathers that echo the shape of feelers

on a fancy, flamboyant moth.

Leaves that echo the scent of lemon

or pepper

or cat pee.

But it’s the sea in the sound of the wind

that silences me,

sparks my dreams,

carries me to distant shores,

to time outside of time.

I suspect that this present moment

is itself an echo

of eternity.

– kh –

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

If you want me to send these thoughts to your email each Sunday, simply sign up on the right.

Text and photos © 2023 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

It Seems Backward

 

The morning sun is melting the frost on roofs and lawns except where there are shadows. So instead of the shadows being dark, they’re frosty white. The trunk of one of our elm trees is casting a shadow on the next-door garage roof. Its shadow is a long, rectangular streak of white frost on dark gray shingles. It seems backward for a shadow to be white. But then, nature always has something new up her sleeve, and I always have something to learn. – kh, from Noticing: 365 Days of Calm Reflections

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2022 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

St. Augustine’s Fear—And Mine

 

St. Augustine once said, “I fear that Jesus will pass by me unnoticed.” I fear that the gifts of this day will pass by me unnoticed—the cloud formations, the birds, the fragile blooms open to the sun at this moment, the peace within this day. So as I move through this day, I hope to look for the gifts that nature has for me and linger with them. – kh, Linger: 365 Days of Peaceful Pauses

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2022 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Nature’s Invitation

 

Nature invites me to linger and fills me with wonder.

And wonder, I believe, is a kind of gratitude.

– kh, Linger

 

Wonder and gratitude nurture peace, so as always: Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

And Happy Thanksgiving to friends and family in the U.S.!

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week (It’s a triple shadow.):

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Text and photos © 2021 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

Nature. Art. God.

 

“The course of Nature is the art of God.”

Edward Young

 

Linger,

heart open,

intent on the smallest bit

of nature’s art—

a pebble,

a butterfly,

a bud,

raindrops;

let wonder widen,

dreams deepen,

hopes stretch and soar

up and out and into

the eternal mystery

that many call

God.

–KH

 

Nurture peace, cultivate kindness, and carry the calm.

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

 

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Text and photos © 2021 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.

A Doorway to a New World

 

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul. Between every two pines is a doorway to a new world.” – John Muir

 

Nature of the week:

Shadow of the Week:

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Text and photos © 2021 Karyn Henley. All rights reserved.