Summer morning
Following the post on nightfall, what better than a view of a summer morning in brightening sunlight ... rather, dappled light? Might we say, pied beauty?
"Glory be to God for dappled things—For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;And áll trades, their gear and tackle and trim.All things counter, original, spáre, strange;Whatever is fickle, frecklèd (who knows how?)With swíft, slów; sweet, sóur; adázzle, dím;He fathers-forth whose beauty is pást change:Práise hím." *
(Sorry, I know of no degenderized version of that ... and it certainly would spoil the poem.)
So let's look at the light, shadow, speckles, spots, folds, grooves, crevices ...
... a falling away of lines, diagonals, shimmering panicles, starbursts ...
... devious interweavings and convergences ...
... the wonder of a living veil of grass ...
... a tumbling down ...
... to this.
... looming, towering, immanent, imminent ...
... pure, cloud-like ...
... two umbellifers, both Eupatorium, with shapely curves ...
... Sanguisorbas, ornaments to the garden ...
... the old crab apple, sentinel in shade ... perhaps the thing that watches ...
* Gerard Manley Hopkins, Pied Beauty