A writer inspired by nature and human nature

Posts tagged ‘Nature’

Starlight


Bette A. Stevens:

I love art: Enjoy a winter watercolor scene from nutsfornature blog, one of the ‘homes’ of my talented New England artist and photographer friend Eunice Miller! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on My Portfolio:

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628. Nature is a revelation of God. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow


Bette A. Stevens:

Inspired by nature! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on Sacred Touches:

I love to think of nature
as an unlimited broadcasting station,
through which God speaks to us  every hour,
if we will only tune in.
~George Washington Carver

Screen shot 2015-01-30 at 2.52.51 PM

The child whispered, “God, speak to me”
And a meadowlark sang.
The child did not hear.

So the child yelled, “God, speak to me!”
And the thunder rolled across the sky
But the child did not listen.

The child looked around and said,
“God let me see you” and a star shone brightly
But the child did not notice.

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And the child shouted, “God show me a miracle!”
And a life was born
But the child did not know.

So the child cried out in despair,
“Touch me God, and let me know you are here!”
Where upon God reached down
And touched the child.

But the child brushed the butterfly away
And walked away unknowingly.
~Ravindra Kumar Harnani

He who forms the…

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561. If you concentrate on finding what is good in every situation, you will discover that your life will suddenly be filled with gratitude, a feeling that nurtures the soul. ~Rabbi Harold Kushner


Bette A. Stevens:

Thankful! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on Sacred Touches:

Above me and below me
Hovers the beautiful.
I am surrounded by it.
I am immersed in it.
~Native American Saying

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I thank God for the ways of Creation–
For eyes to see Creation’s beauty,
For ears to hear Creation’s sounds,
For a tongue to taste Creation’s savory delights,
For a nose to smell Creation’s sweet aromas,
For arms to embrace others with a loving touch,
For a heart to understand the ways of the Lord,
For words to praise the triune God, Maker of heaven and earth.
~Edited and adapted from a Native American prayer

I will praise God’s name in song and glorify Him with thanksgiving. ~Psalm 69:30   ✝

** Image via Pinterest

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183. Why are there trees I never walk under but large and melodious thoughts descend upon me? ~Walt Whitman


Bette A. Stevens:

Need some inspiration? There’s nothing like Nature, a little Walt Whitman and a bit of Shakespeare, too… ~ Bette A. Stevens http://www.4writersandreaders.com

 

Originally posted on Sacred Touches:

And this our life,
exempt from public haunt,
finds tongues in trees,
books in running brooks,
sermons in stones,
and good in everything.
~William Shakespeare

Image

Standing beneath the Shumard Red Oak made me feel like I was standing in a temple of the Most High.  The breeze was ruffling its leaves, and they in turn were prompting sacred tongues to utter incantations of their divine purpose.  For though the leaves face eminent extinction and expulsion from the branches, in their dying they’ll fall and create warm blankets to cover the ground.  In so doing they will protect the life that lies beneath the surface during winter’s cold, cold days.  Even at the close of winter their goodness will not be at an end for as they deteriorate, the remaining bits and pieces will add nutrients to enhance the soil.  Thus goes the circle of life and the interdependency of all…

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Peregrine Falcon, New York City, poem by Robert Cording


Bette A. Stevens:

Inspiration in the midst of day-to-day humdrum! ~ Bette A. Stevens

Originally posted on Silver Birch Press:

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PEREGRINE FALCON, NEW YORK CITY
By Robert Cording

On the 65th floor where he wrote
Advertising copy, joking about
The erotic thrall of words that had
No purpose other than to make
Far too many buy far too much,
He stood one afternoon face to face
With a falcon that veered on the blade
Of its wings and plummeted, then
Swerved to a halt, wings hovering.
 
An office of computers clicked
Behind him.  Below, the silence
Of the miniature lunch time crowds
And toy-like taxis drifting without
Resolve to the will of others.
This bird’s been brought in, he thought,
To clean up the city’s dirty problems
Of too many pigeons.  It’s a hired beak.
 
Still he remained at the tinted glass
Windows, watching as the falcon
Gave with such purpose its self
To the air that carried it, its sheer falls
Breaking the mirrored self-reflections
Of glass…

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ARTISTRY an autumn poem by Bette A. Stevens


 

Autumm's Artistry

Celebrating Summer’s Cessation with a poem…


I love nature and usually have a little notepad and pencil with my on my nature walks. Nature is inspiring… I was resting and reflecting down by one of my favorite spots, a lovely little brook nearby.  Suddenly a few golden word nuggets grabbed me when I spotted the fall asters dancing in the breeze. ~ Bette A. Stevens

Final Performance SMALL

The Ice Crystal Robe


~Poem by Bette A. Stevens © January 1, 2013~

Winter 2012_12

I collected word nuggets for The Ice Crystal Robe several years ago. Last week I shot the photograph for this post when one of our lilac trees was shimmering like a gemstone in winter’s early morning sunlight after a storm. ~Bette A. Stevens~

The Ice Crystal Robe

Royal Finery,

glistening diamond ropes

embellish bare arms.

Her ice crystal robe

disappears by mid-morning.

Lilac stands naked.

Aside

MOUNT BATTIE: Hiking the Tableland Trail


Ageless Amenities

Copyright  -October 2012-  Bette A. Stevens

Sandstone

mudstone

granite

and

basalt.

 

Step

by

step

I

climb

archaic

rock.

 

October mini-vacation plans included a day trip to climb Mount Battie in Camden, Maine. My friend Lea was up from Virginia for our annual get-together. Only five days and the meteorologists were predicting lots of clouds and little sun. The ground was damp and soggy from weeks of rain.

I’ve wanted to climb Mount Battie for several years, but hadn’t made the trek. We woke, dressed, packed for a short hike and headed out for Camden Hills State Park on the only day with a partly sunny forecast. Camden Hills State Park is historically significant because of its connection with Depression-era federal programs and early efforts in the 1930s to develop state park systems throughout the United States. The national park service relied on local talent, such as Hans Heistad, noted landscape architect, in addition to a Civilian Conservation Corps crew based in the area. The park is open from May through October and offers a hiking system with over 30 miles of trails. We were on our way.

Heading for the hills.

Quick stop for a photo op.

The trails start here, to the left we would veer.

The start of the trail, we’re sure to prevail.

Sandstone, mudstone, granite and basalt;
step by very cautious step, we climb archaic rock.

Down the pits and up the mounds, spying woodlands all around.

A mile and a half,
we finally made it through;
A hike that yields the grandest prize –
magnificent the view!

Harvest Haiku


Originally posted on 20 Lines A Day:

The harvest is in.

All that remains is stubble

waiting for the plough.

 

Photograph from Brampton Plough Day – more at http://patwoodblogging.wordpress.com/2012/09/03/passion/

 

 

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