Posts Tagged ‘snow’
lichens on the snow
As you may know, we are still under a blanket of snow here in New Brunswick. And later today a Nor’easter is predicted to bring another 30 cm. Not the best place for collecting plants as dyestuff. But, as I always find – nature provides!
Our windy weather this past week has dropped lots of Old Man’s Beard lichen (Usnea subfloridana) along our driveway. These lichens grow in the maple and spruce trees on our property but usually they grow too high to reach. I was able to collect quite a handful.
And now my experiment begins.
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Lichens have been used for centuries as a source of dye. The Roccella species, for example, makes a purple dye called orchil. I may not get purple from my Usnea lichens, but I am ‘dyeing’ to try!
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The typical extraction process for lichens is called ‘ammonia fermentation’ – soaking the lichens in ammonia for two or three weeks. Lichens also yield dye with boiling. I have decided to try the ammonia method first, although I will not use urine as was traditionally done!
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So I stuffed the Usnea lichens into a canning jar, added water and a tablespoon of ammonia, labelled the jar and put it on the shelf.
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And now we wait. I’ll let you know what, if any, colour develops. I feel like a housewife of old, wanting some dyestuff to add colour to my life, willing to make do with what is available.
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
beech leaves and berries
One more poem about winterberry holly …
winterberry holly in early winter
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beech leaves and berries
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watch the wretched shudder
of the second hand, clutch
at the day, a beech leaf, intent
or winterberries persistent
through December
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peeling paint on the door
of the shed, insistent –
resist new color
parchment leaves and paint chips rattle
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on a day in January
a grey-green flake of paint
is tumbled by wind
and vermillion berries surrender
drop
by
drop
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indifferent snow
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
february chill
memories of a walk on a cold night …
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spaces in the dark
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white on the pasture
interrupts the night
clings to cold twilight
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footfalls
beside me
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a black horse
assembles from shadow
ponders the snow
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your coat
folded around me
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the horse lifts its head
knows where deer hesitate
where wings brush against barn boards
where I stand in the snow
and shiver
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never so warm again
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chill spaces around me
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no feathers to fly
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
new-fallen snow
On this wintry day … finding the right words to describe new-fallen snow …
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newfall: words escape me
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the white ephemeral
perhaps frost
the fir boughs divided
the sculptured steel
of a flake of snow
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try again
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paper stencil
on chocolate cake
powdered sugar
sifted on the rills
of the new plowed field
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again
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sweet in my mouth
the bitter melted in morning sun
white hot on my cheek
the writing lamp
~
a lamp to the left
casts no shadow
(the shadow of a pen
or a hand)
~
(unless you are wrong-handed)
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chimney shadow
on a fresh-snowed roof
or trees on the eastern edge of the road
where the sun cannot warm
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the morning
dusting of ice
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try again
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Published as ‘newfall – words escape me’, the Fiddlehead 196, Summer 1998
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Copyright 2014 Jane Tims
getting ready for Christmas #4 – vintage postcards
For a few years, I have hung examples from my collection of postcards on a string above the fireplace. I have postcards for all the major holidays – New Years, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Thanksgiving, Halloween and, of course, Christmas.
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This year, when I hung my Christmas postcards, I could only find six. I need more, I decided, and went on eBay to find just three more.
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By the time I finished my bidding and winning, I had 14 postcards to add to my collection.
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After I had hung some of the postcards over my fireplace, I discovered 7 other postcards from a collection that belonged to my grandmother. So now I have 27 vintage Christmas postcards. The eBay extravaganza was not necessary at all, but, oh, it was fun!
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three of my new postcards – notice, I now have two of a set of ‘robin’ postcards – will I go out to find three more I know are in the set????
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Vintage postcards, mailed in 1922 (left) and 1926 (right)
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Copyright 2013 Jane Tims
snowfall and summer
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envy
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in the hammock
the snow rocks
gently, enthralled by
whispers
of fireflies
owl calls
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wind harasses
the pines
mutters them miserable
snow fall ceases
stars punctuate
indigo sky
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snow dwindles
shrinks and sublimates
the hammock cradles
a frail cadaver, swings
in obedience to
winter storm
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Copyright Jane Tims 2013
Christmas post cards – greetings from the past
I’ve sent almost all of my Christmas cards. They are pretty to send, and I love to receive them in return.
But I also love the examples of greetings from Christmas past, my small collection of Christmas post cards.
So, no matter who they were originally intended for, here are some Christmas wishes for you, from years gone by…
From little Rose Marie…
From cousin Virginia…
From 1913… (the back of this one says, in part… ‘don’t forget that rabbit stew we are all to have when one of you chaps snares one.’)
In 1912…
And from Uncle and Auntie…
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Copyright Jane Tims 2012
how high the snow?
Last week, we had our first substantial snow. My husband is happy because he plows driveways with his tractor. I am happy too because the snow makes everything clean and white.
Both of us wish we knew how much snow will fall this winter. Even the weather station does not make any attempts to guess the snowfall in the coming months.
However, I enjoy the old ways of prediction … my Dad used to say the snow would be as high as the wasps built their nests. Last week, while walking one of our trails, my husband found a wasp nest at chest height. Last year, in 2011, there was a wasp nest in our arbour, at a point just above our heads. Therefore, we have concluded… this year we will have less snow than last.
By April, I should know if this method works!!!!
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prediction
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had a lengthy meeting
before the Queen OK’d the plan
and started the nest – concise, globular,
paper contract with winter
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she ordered us to work,
to strip wood from
the human house next door,
chew the pulp, publish the bulletin
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takes stacks and layers of paperwork
to predict with certainty
where home will be safe and above
the snows of December
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the secret in fine print,
on paper walls –
light grey from the patio fence
dark grey from the shingles
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Copyright Jane Tims 2012
‘cold’ place names in New Brunswick
Yesterday morning we woke to a dusting of snow on the roof of the garage and deck table. I am not too crazy about the perils of driving in bad weather, but I love the look of new snow.
cold day in December 2011
Thinking about new snow reminded me about the several communities in New Brunswick named for adverse or chilly conditions:
Snowdon, York County – perhaps after the family name.
Coldbrook, Saint John County (now part of Saint John) – originally thought to have been called Moosepath, then Three Mile House … renamed Coldbrook in 1889, reason unknown.
Coldstream, Carleton County – first called Rockland, was renamed Coldstream in 1852.
Blowdown, Carleton County – originally called South Richmond, the community was renamed in 1869, after a significant leveling of forest as a result of the Saxby Gale (October 4-5, 1869).
Frosty Hollow, Westmorland County (now part of Sackville)– originally called Mapleburg, the community was renamed in 1927 because the first frost in the Sackville area is said to settle there.
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For information on other community names in New Brunswick, you can use the search feature at the Provincial Archives of New Brunswick http://archives.gnb.ca/exhibits/communities/.
new snow on car roof
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newfall: words escape me
~
the white ephemeral
perhaps frost
the fir boughs divided
the sculptured steel
of a flake of snow
~
try again
~
paper stencil
on chocolate cake
powdered sugar
sifted on the rills
of the new plowed field
~
again
~
sweet in my mouth
the bitter melted in morning sun
white hot on my cheek
the writing lamp
~
a lamp to the left
casts no shadow
(the shadow of a pen
or a hand)
~
(unless you are wrong-handed)
~
chimney shadow
on a fresh-snowed roof
or trees on the eastern edge of the road
where the sun cannot warm
~
the morning
dusting of ice
~
try again
~
~
Published as: ‘newfall: words escape me’, The Fiddlehead 196: 147, Summer 1998.
Copyright Jane Tims 2012
eight days – snow storm
During my eight days in Ontario, we had a snow storm whose memorable characteristic was the size of its snowflakes. They were the biggest I’ve ever seen, as big as large marshmallows. Every fluffy snowball must have been the composite of a dozen individual snowflakes. After the storm, the trees were coated with white. The cedar were particularly beautiful, with their evergreen leaves each hanging beneath a personal burden of snow.
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deep snow
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snowed all day, sealed us in
knee-deep, snowflakes
the size of mittens, wrists
of cedar hang
weight of snow, on backs of hands
boughs of fir, three-thumbed
and frosted, fists on fence posts
impressions of boot
in the hollow of leg-prints, fingernails play
the wind chime, brief
reminder of summer, signals
in-coming cold
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© Jane Tims 2012
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