leaves wings and other such things


falling in love


  I have been in love more times than one,
  thank the Lord. Sometimes it was lasting
  whether active or not. Sometimes
  it was all but ephemeral, maybe only
  an afternoon, but not less real for that.
  They stay in my mind, these beautiful people,
  or anyway beautiful people to me, of which
  there are so many. You, and you, and you,
  whom I had the fortune to meet, or maybe
  missed. Love, love, love, it was the
  core of my life, from which, of course, comes
  the word for the heart. And, oh, have I mentioned
  that some of them were men and some were women
  and some—now carry my revelation with you—
  were trees. Or places. Or music flying above
  the names of their makers. Or clouds, or the sun
  which was the first, and the best, the most
  loyal for certain, who looked so faithfully into
  my eyes, every morning. So I imagine
  such love of the world—its fervency, its shining, its
  innocence and hunger to give of itself—I imagine
  this is how it began.
                               —Mary Oliver

boy meets girl


Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose


hands entwined“At night I dream that you & I are two plants
 that grew together, roots entwined,
 and that you know the earth & the rain like my mouth,
 since we are made of earth and rain.”
 ―Pablo Neruda, Regalo De Un Poeta/ Gift Of A Poet

i think of the relationships that inspire me & give me faith in the kindness of people.
their presence has given my life beauty.

tenderness entwined 

Posted on by stanislawa in toes&nose

guardian of the woods

the owl is the guardian of the woods

Trees are the kindest things I know,
They do no harm,
they simply grow
And spread a shade
for sleepy cows,
And gather birds among their boughs.
They give us fruit in leaves above,
And wood to make our houses of,
And leaves to burn on Hallowe’en,
And in the Spring
new buds of green.
They are the first when day’s begun
To touch the beams of morning sun.
They are the last to hold the light
When evening changes
into night,
And when a moon floats on the sky
They hum a drowsy lullaby
Of sleepy children
long ago . . .
Trees are the kindest things I know.
—Harry Behn 

little mouse in the woods


who guards the woods?
who guards the woods? 

to see other guardians, go to my portfolio guardian of the trees or my posts guardian in the trees & guardian in the branches.



guardian in the woods is the owl watched by the mouse


Posted on by stanislawa in twigs&blossoms

hear in the trees

little bird in a web of branches




what would it be like to live in the texture of the trees? to jump through the lower branches, to move in & out from the thick around the trunk, then to the outer edges, all the way up to into the sky. the birds experience this everyday.face in the trees bird detailface in the trees hawk detail

I am not bound for any public place, but for ground of my own where I have planted vines and orchard trees, and in the heat of the day climbed up into the healing shadow of the woods.
—Wendell Berry

face in the trees

for more about birds see bird talk.

for more about the trees & those who guard them see guardian of the trees or click my catagory twigs&blossoms.

Posted on by stanislawa in twigs&blossoms

flowers for trees

on the distant cliff of a table.
Up close, it draws you in,
cuts everything down to size.

Look at it from the doorway,
& the world dilates & bloats.

The button lying next to it
is now a pearl wheel,
the book of matches is a raft,
& the coffee cup a cistern
to catch the same rain
that moistens its small plot of dark, mossy earth.

For it even carries its own weather,
leaning away from a fierce wind
that somehow blows 
through the calm tropics of this room.

The way it bends inland at the elbow
makes me want to inch my way
to the very top of its spiky greenery,
hold on for dear life
& watch the sea storm rage,
hoping for a tiny whale to appear.

I want to see her plunging forward
through the troughs,
tunneling under the foam & spindrift
on her annual, thousand mile journey.

—Billy Collins

bird in flight from tree top

in honor of mother’s day & the precious woman who i watched grow & who watched over me as i grew, here is a bouquet of flowers for the trees. two things dear to her heart.
a bouquet for the trees

from some of our walks together, here are some flowers & trees that we shared.
tiny spotted red blossomscluster of pink blossomsshoreline garden of the Cà d’Oro mansion

Posted on by stanislawa in twigs&blossoms

guardian in the tree

leaves & flowers in the guardian treeI never saw a discontented tree. They grip the ground as though they liked it, & though fast rooted they travel about as far as we do. They go wandering forth in all directions with every wind, going & coming like ourselves, traveling with us around the sun two million miles a day, & through space, heaven knows how fast & far.
—John Muir

hand of the guardian in the treeThe tree is more than first a seed, then a stem, then a living trunk, & then dead timber. The tree is a slow, enduring force straining to win the sky.
—Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Wisdom of the Sands

face of the guardian in the treeI hear the wind among the trees
Playing the celestial symphonies;
I see the branches downward bent,
Like keys of some great instrument.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Look: the trees exist; the houses  we dwell in stand there stalwartly. Only we pass by it all, like a rush of air. And everything conspires to keep quiet about us, half out of shame perhaps, half out of some secret hope. ―Rainer Maria Rilke

so who guards the trees?bird guardian in the tree

Posted on by stanislawa in twigs&blossoms

guardian in the branches

wings in the branches

trees rise up into the sky. they stay strong through turbulent wind & rain, through extreme heat & cold. they provide oxygen & shade, absorb pollutants from the soil, muffle urban noise, & absorb carbon dioxide. 

but who guards the trees?the tree guardian

Posted on by stanislawa in twigs&blossoms