while poking around in my bookcase i came upon this 19th century photo album. one i acquired years ago, but decided it was too sweet to cut up and repurpose. i sat and looked at these delicate illustrations i had forgotten all about. i think i will draw and watercolor some of them into my sketchbook. tiny blossoms, vibrant roots, lacy ferns. such tenderness and wonder found in each petal & leaf.
most of the pages contain the illustrations, but there is also this photo. a mysterious young woman with blush pink cheeks! the caretaker no doubt.
and also i want to share this poem. because i read it today on writer's almanac. and then read it again. and again.
Surprised by Evening
There is unknown dust that is near us,
Waves breaking on shores just over the hill,
Trees full of birds that we have never seen,
Nets drawn down with dark fish.
The evening arrives; we look up and it is there,
It has come through the nets of the stars,
Through the tissues of the grass,
Walking quietly over the asylums of the waters.
The day shall never end, we think:
We have hair that seems born for the daylight;
But, at last, the quiet waters of the night will rise,
And our skin shall see far off, as it does underwater.
by Robert Bly