At Last, There’s Joy In Mudville

October 3, 2017October 3, 2017 ~ shoreacres ~ 45 Comments

Early morning dew collects on a bud of Mexican primrose-willow (Ludwigia octovalvis)

A water-loving plant, Mexican primrose-willow has exploded in the weeks since Hurricane Harvey. Its pretty yellow blossoms and red stems are unmistakable, but here one of its still-green buds serves as a setting for a gem of a dewdrop.

After so many weeks of muddy water and silt, even a single drop of clear, reflective water can bring joy.

Comments always are welcome.

Shedding Circumstance

September 21, 2017 ~ shoreacres ~ 60 Comments

There’s nothing particularly charming about flood waters. Muddy, debris-filled and insistent, they rage indiscriminately, sparing nothing in their path.

Nonetheless, once waters recede, tokens of their presence can be surprisingly delicate. Unbroken grasses bend beneath invisible flows; trees wear faint watermarks with pride.

Among the jumbled plants, a few leaves dangle. Their thin, crisp coating of sand has begun flaking away; their striated surface recalls a season of growth.

Given over to death, they echo life: stirring before the wind, they murmur and sigh, casting off remnants of a strange and fearsome time.