An Infrared Winter’s Tale

YESTERDAY the fields were only grey with scattered snow,
And now the longest grass-leaves hardly emerge;
Yet her deep footsteps mark the snow, and go
On towards the pines at the hills’ white verge.

I cannot see her, since the mist’s white scarf
Obscures the dark wood and the dull orange sky;
But she’s waiting, I know, impatient and cold, half
Sobs struggling into her frosty sigh.

Why does she come so promptly, when she must know
That she’s only the nearer to the inevitable farewell;
The hill is steep, on the snow my steps are slow—

Why does she come, when she knows what I have to tell?

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D.H. Lawrence, Amores. 1916

Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography ©2013-2019 All Rights Reserved
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Fire in the Heavens

As I lay in the new-fallen snow, I gaze through the lens in awe of the fiery sky as it weeps tears of snow upon the ground. It is difficult to remove oneself from such a beautiful and mysterious scene but it belongs to me now, captured to be remembered forever.  It is my joy when cold winter comes and greets me with such wonder of eye and lens of fire in the winter heavens.  I am in raptures!

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JayJacy.com

They whisper. . .

“Stars.
 We Star-hosts numerous, innumerous,
 Throng space with energy untumultuous,
 And work His Will Whose eye beholdeth us.

Galaxies and Nebulæ.
No thing is far or near; and therefore we
Float neither far nor near; but where we be
Weave dances round the Throne perpetually.

Comets and Meteors.
Our lights dart here and there, whirl to and fro,
We flash and vanish, we die down and glow;
All doing His Will Who bids us do it so.

Fire.
My power and strength are His Who fashioned me,
Ordained me image of His Jealousy,
Forged me His weapon fierce exceedingly.

Snow.
My whiteness shadoweth Him Who is most fair,
All spotless: yea, my whiteness which I wear
Exalts His Purity beyond compare.”
_CG Rossetti

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Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography ©2013-2019 All Rights Reserved
No Reblogs Please. Thanks

Autumn Fires – Lakes of Blue

 


Autumn Fires

IN the other gardens
And all up the vale,
From the autumn bonfires
See the smoke trail!

Pleasant summer over
And all the summer flowers,
The red fire blazes,
The gray smoke towers.

Sing a song of seasons!
Something bright in all!
Flowers in the summer,
Fires in the fall!*
~ ~ ~

*Stevenson, Robert Louis (1850–1894)

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Photography: Copyright, JayJacy Photography, ClassyHDR Photography ©2018 All Rights Reserved