Tag Archives: trees

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Glimpses of Autumn


Blue Ridge Mountains, NC Photo by Barbara Mattio

” There are countless paths to the mountain’s summit. Yet from it the same moon pours radiance over the landscape.”
—-Ikkyu

Blue Ridge Mountains, NC Photo by Barbara Mattio

“Entering the forest he moves not the grass; entering the water he does not make a ripple.”

Niagara Falls, Ontario Photo by Barbara Mattio

“It is deep autumn. What kind of life is my neighbors I wonder…”

Niagara Falls, Ontario Photo by Barbara Mattio

” One day a monk spoke bitterly to the Buddha about the unbearable sorrows of the world. The Buddha remained silent. Then he pointed at the earth between his feet, and said: ” On this earth I have attained awakening.”
Splendor of the World….no Why.

All quotes excerpted from Zen Seeing, Zen Drawing

Emerald necklace parks, Ohio Photo by Barbara Mattio

Lake Erie Islands, Lake Erie, Photo by Barbara Mattio

” Wherever you are is home
And the earth is paradise
Wherever you set your feet is holy land…
You don’t live off it like a parasite.
You live in it, and it in you,
Or you don’t survive.
And that is the only worship of God there is.”

——-Wilfred Pelletier and Ted Poole

Chautuaqua Institute, NY Photo by Barbara Mattio

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The Little Things


Bonsai Show Photo by Barbara Mattio

The other day I went with a friend to the Bonsai show and it was a wonderful time. In the past the bonsai’s I have seen were indoor plants. I saw so many amazing outdoor plants and trees that were in miniature. It was so thrilling to see all of the tiny evergreens and the very tiny flowers.

I saw deciduous trees, all sporting a riot of colors. A miniature forest made up of tiny trees with perfect little leaves. I was amazed to see the texture, veining and color so familiar and yet so new in its tininess. Some were even smaller than any I had ever seen.

Bonsai Show Photo by Barbara Mattio

So much perfection was stunning and impressive to see. Tiny flowers looking like little specks of star dust landing on the branches. You could almost see in your mind’s eye a tiny bird sitting on a tiny nest. It is so touching to see a little leaf, smaller than your fingertip, just perfect in design and textures. The trunk gnarled and winding around itself just like you would see in every forest you have ever been in.

The Universe is an amazing place full of perfection, beauty, and breathtaking detail. That was what really got me. The detail that left nothing out. Each flower and tree complete in its minuteness. I think the Bonsai made me think much more about the detail that goes into everything in the Universe. What a wonderful gift to see from new eyes and perspective.

Bonsai Forest, Photo by Barbara Mattio

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The Last Rose of Summer


Needlework by
Barbara Mattio

There is a bittersweet energy about October. I gaze out at my garden and a smile comes to my face. The roses continue to bloom despite cooler evenings. We are almost at the time to say goodbye to their gentle fragrances and delicate petals. A farewell to their beauty. Cool temperatures day and night will eventually take each last bloom and end its beauty. We are not bereft though as Autumn brings a brilliance of color as a consolation prize. So far, we have begun to see the green turning to vibrant colors of red, gold, orange and yellow.

It is the last gift of the cycle of life. The last brilliant colors before Mother Earth goes to her hibernation and the world turns white, gray and brown. It is a blessing to know that as the cycle spins it never stops and we will have a fresh, vibrant and exciting Spring. I love the anticipation of the renewal of the earth, with the springing up of the early spring bulbs soon to be a riot of color and a sudden rush of sweet fragrance.

For now, there is the bittersweet of the last of the flowers and the last of my beloved roses until the spring. Since this is the cycle of life, the promise that after a rest the world will renew itself and we will once again frolic among the flowers and trees.

So we say goodbye to the bees working hard at gathering the pollen and the ladybugs and the iridescence of the dragonflies. A last wave of the wings of a butterfly and the song of the cicadas at night. They will return in the spring and the cycle will begin again.

A Jewish Prayer

And G-d saw everything that was mad, and found it very good.

And The One said: This is a beautiful world that I have given you.

Take good care of it, do not ruin it.

It is said; Before the world was created, the Holy One kept

Creating worlds and destroying them.  Finally this one was created and was satisfied.

Adonai said to Adam; This is the last world I shall make. I place it in your hands; hold it in trust.

Autumn in Western North Carolina Photo by Barbara Mattio

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Our Home Mother Earth


Well, yes I am writing again about our beloved trees and caring for Mother Earth. We have a responsibility to her and yet it is more than responsibility.
Mother Earth gives us our home and amazing beauty. If you love something, you need to care for it. Caring for our home is imperative or else she and we will die. There are a million things each of us can do, one simple thing is to plant a tree somewhere. The energy of trees is so tremendous and we need all of our growing things.

There is a very simple scientific principle which brings home the importance of our trees and flowers and gardens. When humans breathe we exhale carbon dioxide which plants and trees need. The trees and flowers and crops give off oxygen which we need to breath. It is a cycle that happens every second of every day. It takes no effort, except that we not cut down our rainforests and green areas. It is vital though to our existence.

“May our corner of the earth join us
in blessing the Lord
fruit-laden papayas, fig trees in bud
You, guavas, replete with promise,
bougainvillaeas of every color,
beans that twist and clamber,
tomatoes and all green vegetables
and you, fields of rice in the valleys,
O praise the marvels of the Lord!

And you, Bamboo, who own neither flower
nor fruits, sing a song of praise to the Lord,
for you are rich in other ways:
supple and lively, hold your head high,
yield before the storm, but do not break.
Your shoots, hugging to one another all close,
will confront the hurricane.
Then, when it’s passed,
lift up your head!
And if the typhoon sweeps you away,
let it carry you with it.
Someone will find you lying on the road
or maybe you will kindle a poor man’s fire
or be made into a balance pole
to ease Man’s burdens!

If need should arise, let yourself be split
into strips by the hand of a clever craftsman.
Thus you will become a mat or a basket,
a broom or a brush—-again, on demand,
let yourself be used whole, without hesitation,
to support the sail of a sturdy junk
or enable a fisherman to cast his net.

In you, Bamboo, some will seek inspiration
to guide their brush towards lines of beauty,
or make of you a flute or a pipe.
Let yourself be emptied of self that you may
sing a melody new.
Some may try to make of you a barrier
to separate people one from another
Then let your leafage vibrate with the rustle
or a call which will resound near and far
and invite them to live in unity and love!

—Translated from the French by Mary Rogers

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For All the Secret Dancers


“They flew up one spring day
just as the oaks were beginning to bloom,
green and yellow warblers, filling the tree
with music and bright darting movements.
The mother and girl stood outside
and marveled at the sight—–
the mother’s hand steadying her shoulder,
the child swayed backwards, closed her eyes,
opened her mouth, and swallowed the tree
like a spoonful of honey.
She tasted the sweet tasseling blossoms of oak,
felt the flickering wings,
the sway of the branches—-swallowed it whole,
then opened her eyes, and breathed it out again.

But the tree had infiltrated her body
like iron in earth or smoke in wind,
like salt in water she became infused
with its quickening brightness.
She grew old listening to music,
she opened her mouth, and let it run in
until it came out her feet and fingertips,
the flickering motions of color and song,
as bright as jewels.

You can see her in the garden bending over the beds;
suddenly she lifts her face and smiles
as if she is drinking up the sunlight;
she sways above the bean-rows and marigolds,
weaving webs of light with long hands;
or in the morning when she sets the kettle on the stove,
turning in her shuffling slippers,
she lifts the shawl above her head,
and does again the dance of wings and branches.”
———-Virginia Haiden

Photo by Barbara Mattio

Ms. Haiden is a poet and mother of four and grandmother of two. She is a rock hound, gardens, enjoys cooking and jewelry design.

Photo by Barbara Mattio

 

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The Sound of the Trees


By Robert Frost

” I wonder about the trees.

Why do we wish to bear

Forever the noise of these

More than another noise

So close to our dwelling place?

We suffer them by the day

Till we lose all measure of pace,

And fixity in our joys,

And acquire a listening air.

They are that that talks of going

But never gets away;

And that talks no less for knowing,

As it grows wiser and older,

That now it means to stay.

My feet tug at the floor

And my head sways to my shoulder

Sometimes when I watch trees sway,

From the windows or the door.

I shall set forth for somewhere,

I shall make the reckless choice

Some day when they are in voice

And tossing so as to scare

The white clouds over them on.

I shall have less to say,

But I shall be gone.”

In remembrance of Buzurg Mir Hammon, who taught me to hug trees and to fall in love with the Beloved.

Photography by Barbara Mattio

Photography by Barbara Mattio

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For She is the Tree of Life


Photo by Barbara Mattio

Here we are two days from Mother’s Day and I have blogged about the original mother. Today I wish to pay homage to the Nanas, grandma’s, Bebe’s, and Grams in the world. Many of us benefited from the comfort, wisdom and succor of our grandmothers. I remember both of my grandmothers clearly.
One was English and we would have high tea in the afternoons. We would play bingo with her friends and I always won. I remember the toy box in the closet off of the dining room. She came over on the boat from England with her husband and 6 children to find a better life. I have two pieces of furniture she brought to America. I feel her spirit every time I look at them. She was a brave woman who did not find America’s roads paved with gold. I think I get courage from her and I am grateful for what she has added to my life

My maternal grandmother was the anchor in my life. I called her “gramcracker” and she took it with great humor. In my eyes, the sun rose and set on her yet I was aware she wasn’t perfect. I wasn’t either and we loved each other just as we were. She was a night person, a trait I inherited from her. She would sit in her chair and fall asleep. I would creep out of bed and sneak behind her chair and watch TV until the station signed off .( I am fairly old.) I am sure there were times she realized I was there and she never said a word. I learned unconditional love and acceptance from her.

Both of these women influenced my life and taught me to put roots down. This is something I do even when my life is in flux. When life changes, I move my roots. I wanted to share the importance of these women, who though in the twilight of their lives, enriched my life more than words can describe. What I learned from them is worth more than any amount of  money. They were the trees which gave me reflections of  who I really was despite anything else happening in my life. The love they gave to me taught me how to love others and that I was loveable.

Thank you to all of the grandmothers who have influenced the lives of their grandchildren. I hope I am half as good of a nana to my nine grandchildren.

 

“The very commonplaces of life are components of its eternal mystery.”
——Gertrude Atherton