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Saturday, January 3, 2015


    The moon-rise is caught in the clutch of trees before it floats free, clears the roof tops and sails into the darkening sky.

       I have trouble photographing the moon with my camera.  It's likely operator error and not the instrument, but I keep trying.

       There's something fascinating about seeing the first bit of moon appear behind the neighbour's roof and watching it hang in the branches, the tree tops. A fascination as old as time...


Fred Kesler said...


The images of the moon behind the trees in your blog post called to mind an image from a poem that I have always loved.

The poem is Ars Poetica. It was written by Archibald MacLeish. You may already be familiar with the piece. If you are not, I strongly recommend it. I think it would speak to you.

Fred K

Janet Martin said...

this is gorgeous, both the photo and the intro!

Carol Steel said...

Hello Fred. Thank you for your comment. I know and love the poem Ars Poetica, and though it is usually the end I remember and quote to myself, the middle certainly resonates with my feelings and perceptions of moon-rise.

"A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs,

Leaving, as the moon releases
Twig by twig the night-entangled trees,

Leaving, as the moon behind the winter leaves,
Memory by memory the mind—

A poem should be motionless in time
As the moon climbs."

Thank you for reminding me of this lovely piece of poetry about poetry.

Carol Steel said...

Thank you Janet. I appreciate your words.