August (Poetry + Photos)

Welcome back to my (poetry + photos) series, where I share a poem I wrote about each month and include 10 nature photos I took during that month (of various years). Enjoy :)

Bald Eagle (adult)

Bald Eagle (juvenile)

The word "August" means

"To inspire reverence, wonder, and awe."

August is ripened wisdom,

And sun-browned skin.

It's knowing captured 

Under brilliant sunlight.

In a lifespan,

It's 55 or 60 years,

Where bright stories and humor

Weave life into pain.

It's earned marks of age,

Charming wrinkles,

And a few stray grays,

Sitting on vitality's edge.

The word itself sounds like "autumn",

But it's not there yet.

Just glimpses, at most.

August is that buoyant moment

In the pause before an exhale,

Like cueing up to jump off a rock,

Into a sparkling lake.

It's silent courage springing

Through the knees

And empowering the leap.

In the trees, it's a few spots of red,

Blushing coyly in the midday heat,

Or a few corkscrewing, yellow leaves

Dancing down one at a time,

Slow enough to be captured

In a photograph,

And unaccompanied by others.

In the birds, it's a trickling return

From the north,

One by one, day by day.

It's oriole song falling crystal and fluid,

Hidden by dense canopies of green,

Or Red-breasted Nuthatches,

Standing in for their pale-breasted kin,

To match the coming autumnal aesthetic.

August brings varied weather,

Gusting waves and winds,

Blankets of humidity weaving through

Cricket and cicada songs.

Hot, long, sticky days

Winding down

With dwindling bonfire flames.

Sometimes, there is rain,

Remembered from spring,

But now here to cool, sustain, and relieve,

Rather than to pull forth.

Feel August's fire now,

It's in the skin,

The belly,

And in the heart.

It's in the aging leaves,

The southward birds,

And in the now setting-setting sun.

(Aphrodite?) Fritillary Butterfly

Here are the previous months' poems:

January

February

March

April

(May-July are MIA... potentially because I'm less creative those months with my words, and more action-centered? LOL. Whenever I get them, I'll post them)

Barn Swallows Begging for Food

Wait For It...

Success!

Dead Crow's Foot

Purple Coneflower

White Admiral Butterfly

Lil Dude on Pictured Rocks

April (Poetry + Photos)

California cacti in bloom

Welcome back to my (poetry + photos) series, where I share a poem I wrote about each month, plus nature photos taken during that month (these photos came from a variety of Aprils). Enjoy :)

Bushtit

some flowers in California

Double-crested Cormorant

Yellow Warbler

Cooper's Hawk feasting on a Northern Flicker

April pops

Like umbrellas opening

In the hands of Victorian women

Parading the streets,

Dressed in fancy, frilly pastels,

Becoming ephemeral blooms.

Quick bursting petals,

Fluttering descent,

The scent of paintbrush water

Tinging the air.

April dances in technicolor,

Skipping hopscotch across watercolor puddles,

And singing the sun into rising.

From high up in the trees

Starling sounds tumble like pinwheels,

Baby squirrels swirl round and round,

Tulips come to bloom overnight,

Robins converse before dawn,

And all of Nature exclaims,

"Glory to the newborn spring!"

Here are the previous months' poems:

January

February

March

Pileated Woodpecker

Garter Snake

Brown Creeper

Ephemeral blooms

March (Poetry + Photos)

Barred Owls

Last year, I wrote a poem about each month. This year, I'm sharing them, along with photos I've taken that month (photos drawn from a variety of Marchs). Happy spring!!!

Blue-gray Gnatcatcher

Purple Finch

Red-winged Blackbird amidst the buds

Migration of Tundra Swans

March!

The most assertive month of the year,

It speaks in verbs,

And calls to action,

With commands like,

"March fourth!"

Luck and awakening meet,

In this season of becoming-green.

Sometimes it teases,

Like a mirage,

Peeking at warmth,

Then shimmering away with a morning frost.

But she proceeds,

With confident strides;

Mother Nature's New Year,

Moving, quivering,

Alive with flight and color and song.

This bright and clear, syllabic awakening

Is palpable outside and in.

Place your hands in Lotus Mudra -

For we are flowers emerging from mud.

Outside, a caterpillar squirms to life.

I wonder if it knows

What it's about to become...

If you'd like to read January's poem, click here, and February's, here.

Sunset

Eastern Towhee

Migration of Tundra Swans

Caterpillar (swallowtail?)

Salute to Spring

Northern Parula

Happy spring, everyone!

Although I see beauty and purpose in every season, I have to admit, spring is my fav. It's the season I was born into, plus the season with the best bird migration, and, of course, home to those few magical weeks of the year where all those pink and white flowering trees bloom at once - like a parade of Victorian women walking down streetsides, holding frilly and fancy parasols.

Spring is energy and joy; cleaning, rinsing, and resetting; and the emergence of life which inundates the senses. While many Love summer, to me, it feels like it's "already here"... whereas spring is in itself a buildup and an ever-bubbling transformation.

So here's a few hand-picked spring tidbits for you: some photos, a poem, and a few journaling prompts to help you move into the season with awareness and intention.

Photos

Barred Owl

Red-winged Blackbird

Yellow Warbler

(Least?) Flycatcher

Double-crested Cormorant

Turkey Vultures

Canada Geese (goslings)

Northern Mockingbird

Blue-winged Teal (male, female)

Poem - "Hello Spring"

We sit still, but outside, the world is moving,

The seasons changing

Like strips of film before our eyes.

Over there!

It's winter's Cardinal,

A smudge of scarlet

In a skeleton tree.

Holly berry red,

Black-masked bandit,

Stealing away

Winter’s last sigh.

And here!

A Robin,

Round, brown belly,

Rust-colored breast,

Golden-beaked beacon of spring,

Pregnant with possibility,

The promise of beauty yet unhatched.

Soon, life will spill out

From spotted blue shells

And fill our ears with song.

What a priceless gift

To see this transformation,

To feel the fluttering hope of springtime

In our awakened hearts.

Journaling Prompts

1. What can I let go of, "spring clean", or rinse off from the winter season? Why do I want to let this thing go? How will I feel afterward?
2. What seeds am I planting / what am I nourishing / what is emerging in my life over the next few months? Imagine it's the first day of summer. Looking back now, how does it feel now that this new seed has sprouted?
3. Set a timer for 5, 10, or 15 minutes. Free write any words that come to mind when you think of spring. It can be adjectives, nouns, verbs, nature-related, colors - you name it! Optionally, you can turn this "brain dump" into a pinterest board or magazine cut-out vision board.
4. Imagine spring were the only season. How would you learn to find beauty in it and stay present?
5. What lessons does Nature teach you during the season of spring?
6. What rituals, healing practices, or celebrations can you incorporate into this season to make it more meaningful?

P.S. feel free to share your musings with me in the comments here, or on my Instagram @inbodiednature.

Common Grackle

Orchard Oriole

February (Poetry + Photos)

Barred Owl

Last year, I wrote a poem about each month. This year, I'm sharing them, along with photos I've taken that month (photos drawn from a variety of previous Februarys). I hope you enjoy this one - it's one of my favs.

Northern Cardinal

Eastern Bluebirds (male & female)

Water (fluid and frozen)

Black-capped Chickadee & me

February,

The shortest month in the longest season,

Made a little bit longer when it leaps.

February is a blip in the radar,

A heart line jumping faster,

A quivering ache to connect.

In a season of slumber,

February is the REM.

It's movement under the surface,

Beating, bubbling and turning over

Inside winter's womb.

It's a hint of newness

Nestled inside winter's middle,

In the heart of the ancient cold.

A break in the clouds,

A wake from the sleep,

Love nurtures life slowly now,

Beckoning to the undiscovered.

Earth rests her palms upon her heart,

Awaiting the faint pulse of spring.

If you want to read or re-read January's poem, click here!

Feathers

Great Horned Owl

Mute Swan

me :)