Hearing Loss Magazine: 2015 Recap

27 12 2015

I design and photograph for the bimonthly Hearing Loss Magazine (HLM), published by the Hearing Loss Association of America. Here is a recap of the issues published in 2015.

 

JanFeb CoverJanet and Sam Trychin graced the cover of our January/February 2015 issue, and wrote the two main features—How it All began! The Origins of the Living Well with Hearing Loss Program by Sam, Trychin and A Love Story—Audiologist Meets Psychologist by Janet Trychin). I photographed Sam and Janet at HLAA’s Convention 2012 in Washington, D.C. Also in this issue: Should I get a Hearing Aid? by Mark Ross; Walking with You: My Journey as the Walk4Hearing Ambassador by Katherine A. Pawlowski; Beyond the Hearing Aid and Cochlear Implant by Don Senger; Resources Worth Their Weight in Gold, article by Larry Medwetsky about Gallaudet University’s Peer Mentoring Program; Something Extraordinary Has Happened!…and It’s All About the People, an article by Julie Olson celebrating highlights in our year-long 35th commemoration of HLAA’s founding; and Welcome Back to the Movies, an article by Lise Hamlin about HLAA’s work on movie theater access for people with hearing loss. Betty Proctor is featured in our Seen & Heard column for this issue. You can read her profile here.

 

COVER MarchApril 2015The March/April 2015 issue was our Convention sneak preview edition, featuring Nancy Macklin’s Convention feature, The Train is Leaving the Station: Hop On! In a nod to the “All Aboard” theme, I photographed the Talbert and Drawdy families at the Texas Transportation Museum in San Antonio for the cover. Also in this issue: State Agencies for People with Hearing Loss by Lisa Kornberg; Subjects Being Sought, an article by Donna Sorkin and Teresa Zwolan about a new study to examine expansion of Medicare criteria for cochlear implants; The Walk4Hearing and Alliances Help Communites Across the Nation by Ronnie Adler; Let’s Chat—Changing Our Internal Conversations by psychologist Michael Harvey; HLAA member Ann Liming writes about her cochlear implant in A Consumer’s Perspective; HLM Editor in Chief Barbara Kelley’s article, Chilean SHH, profiles the organization and how it was inspired by HLAA; audiologist Mark Ross reflects on his hearing loss in My Near Deaf Experience; Hearing and Health Care—High Stakes Communication by Kathi Mestayer; and Robin Itzler talks frankly about the terms hard of hearing and hearing impaired in [Please] Don’t Call Me Names. Convention 2015 was held in St. Louis, MO, on June 25-28 at the beautiful St. Louis Union Station, a Doubletree by Hilton Hotel.

 

COVER MayJune 2015I photographed Elise Williams and her dog Jackie in San Antonio, Texas, for the cover of our May/June 2015 issue. The main feature was HLAA Walk4Hearing: 10 Years of You Walking Coast to Coast by Barbara Kelley. Also in this issue: Joe Garin shares the story of his son’s hearing loss, the gift of hearing, and their journey with the HLAA Walk4Hearing in Joey G’s Gang; Katerine Bouton writes about NYC Deputy Inspector Daniel Carione and his hearing loss in Standing Your Ground for Justice; Nancy Macklin shares highlights of HLAA Convention 2015 in All Aboard! Last Stop…St. Louis!; Jodi Iler writes about a chance encounter in Oregon leading to a grateful order of nuns in Iowa in Religious Sisters Get in the Loop; Loretta M. Miller discusses her journey with tinnitus in The Trip with Tinnitus; and Ellen Semel writes about the exhibits at the National September 11 Memorial & Museum in Advocacy Works. HLAA members Dave and Carrie Welter make their debut in our Seen & Heard column. You can read their profiles here.

 

HLM JulyAug2015Our July/August 2015 issue focused on hearing loss and technology, beginning Cynthia Compton-Conley’s Best Practices in Hearing Enhancement—What Jack Discovered and What Every Consumer Should Know; in The Smartphone Will See You Now—Really?, Larry Herbert talks with Martin Cooper, inventor of the cell phone, and looks at the future of hearing health care; audiologist Larry Medwetsy shares how to extend the use of your hearing aid with the latest technology in Hearing Aid Connectivity—Bridging a Closer Connection to the World of Sound; Julie Olson writes about how technology is a boon to those with hearing loss, but we can’t forget the human factor in HEAR in the Real World; Lise Hamlin shares how the ADA put people with hearing loss on an equal playing field in the workplace and in public places in The ADA at 25; audiologist Mark Ross writes about the negative perceptions of hearing loss in The Stigma of Hearing Loss and Hearing Aids; and Teresa Goddard shares her personal story of living successfully with hearing loss in Technology—It’s Never Been a Choice Not to Use It! Larry Herbert focuses on his life with technology in our Seen & Heard column. You can read his profile here.

 

Sarah CoverLibrarian and HLAA member Sarah Wegley graces the cover of our September/October 2015 issue. I photographed Sarah this past summer when she was interning at the HLAA headquarters. In Speak Up Librarian, she chronicles her mid-career hearing loss and the adventures that follow. Also in this issue: Back to School: Hearing Aid Checklist for Parents with Children with Hearing Loss by Anna Bella and Suzanne D’Amico; The Smart Hearing Aid Revolution by Eric Banda; The Smart Hearing Aid Revolution by Guard Your Health; Nancy Macklin shares convention highlights in HLAA Convention 2015 Wrap-Up; Lise Hamlin writes about HLAA’s role in providing communication access recommendations for rail cars in HLAA is Working for You—Rail Access; and Barbara Kelley introduces Ingebord and Irwin Hochmair, inventors of the MED-EL cochlear implant in Harnessing the Power of Technology. Chameen Stratton is featured in our Seen & Heard column. You can read her profile here.

 

Shari Eberts CoverIn our November/December 2015 issue, Shari Eberts shares how she tried to hide her hearing loss for 10 years in Hearing Loss Doesn’t Have to Be a Showstopper—Breaking the Stigma of Hearing Loss. Also in this issue: Sarah Wegley shares results of a research study about the diminishing stigma of hearing loss in No More Stigma—The Hearing Aid Effect; Dr. King Chung explains the connection between hearing loss and cognitive function in Hearing Aid Use, Cognitive Function, and Proven Benefits; Nancy Macklin announces highlights for the upcoming convention in HLAA Convention 2016 in Washington, D.C.; audiologist Larry Medwetsky continues part two of his series on smartphone apps, Mobile Device Apps for People with Hearing Loss: Expanding the Horizons of Hearing; S.R. Archer interviews a clinical psychologist who works with people with hearing loss in What You Can’t Hear, Can Hurt You; Lise Hamlin’s article, An Idea Whose Time Has Come, discusses how Medicare should include coverage for hearing aids and related services; and Poetry & Prose features Brady Dickens’ Listen and Alyssa Blackmer’s Hearing Silence.

 

Join the Hearing Loss Association of America!
Do you have a hearing loss or know someone who does? Consider membership in the Hearing Loss Association of America. All memberships include discounts on hearing-related products, convention and special event early bird discounts, AVIS and Alamo car rental, and the award-winning Hearing Loss Magazine. Sign up for membership here.

 





Memory of Marie A by Bertolt Brecht

26 11 2012

I came across this lovely poem by German playwright, poet and theater director Bertolt Brecht (1898-1956) on many websites and the translation from German to English wasn’t the same on any of the sites, but this was my favorite that I wanted to share. Accompanying his poem is my photo of a lone cloud over Garvan Woodland Gardens in Arkansas.

Memory of Maria A

One day in blue-moon September,
Silent under a plum tree,
I held her, my silent pale love
in my arms like a fair and lovely dream.
Above us in the summer skies,
Was a cloud that caught my eye.
It was so white and high up,
and when I looked up, it was no longer there.

And since that moment, many a September
Came sailing in, then floated down the stream.
No doubt the plum trees were cut down for timber
And if you ask what happened to my dream
I shall reply: I cannot now remember
Though what you have in mind I surely know.
And yet her face: I really don’t recall it.
I just recall I kissed long ago.

Even the kiss would have been long forgotten
If that white cloud had not been in the sky.
I know the cloud, and shall know it forever,
It was pure white and, oh, so very high.
Perhaps the plum trees still are there and blooming.
Perhaps that woman has six children too.
But that white cloud bloomed only for a moment:
When I looked up, it vanished in the blue.





My World Alive by Viola LaBounty

2 08 2012

A few months ago, my friend Mary Ellen Ryall introduced me to Viola LaBounty, a friend in her writer’s group in Wisconsin. At Mary Ellen’s urging, Viola submitted this poem for publication in the Hearing Loss Magazine, published bimonthly by the Hearing Loss Association of America. It appeared in the July/August 2012 issue. Special thanks to Anna Martineau Merritt, Misty Pines Photography, for the perfect photo of Viola and her husband Bob (beautiful job, Anna!)

My World Alive [Digital Technology]

by Viola LaBounty

Awakened at dawn in silence,
I remember yesterday’s song;
we walked through the forest together
in amazement at how alive all had become.
I had struggled to know what was absent
as we’d walked down these pathways before.
Not known I’d been there in silence
what was muted
until now?

I have missed sounds of sand under footsteps;
each bird-song, each flutter of mourning dove
as we startle her there in oaken leaves;
She flies off to her mate in the distance.
All came alive in an instant…
This is where inspiration had gone.
I’d lived in silence for all this time;
I didn’t realize
until now.

Silence had overtaken my world in part.
where once there was joy in each word came my way;
only quiet as dew rolled to ground…
Now I will savor sound as a gift;
breathe as it whispers its secrets.
Precious words; priceless thoughts
have been given…how many have I missed
until now?

So subtle is aging in many ways,
may steal away some of time;
my world, live with wonder, as a child again;
pure senses, each movement records.
Sound of breezes;
Your voice in soft tones;
prompts of God; He surprises afresh…
I have learned in my journey
each day truly new.
My world is alive once again.

Viola LaBounty is an active member of St. Croix Writer’s Group in Solon Springs, Wisconsin. She is also a member of Wisconsin Writer’s Association and Lake Superior Writers. Viola is a retired teacher’s assistant of early childhood autistic children. She and her husband Bob have two adult children, Michael and Shauna, and one teenage granddaughter Kaylee. Viola enjoys playing gospel music and singing with her auto harp. Her hearing loss has been gradual over the years. She had been exposed to loud environments through her teens and twenties and did not protect her hearing through these times, not realizing how important it would be to do so.

Photo © Anna Martineau Merritt, Misty Pines Photography

 





Ah Sunflower

5 07 2012

Ah Sunflower, weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done;
Where the youth pined away with desire,
And the pale virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sunflower wishes to go!

William Blake (1757-1827)

Photo © Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.





To see the world in a grain of sand*

5 06 2012

I am constantly amazed at how much life there is surrounding me—that something barely half the size of a sesame seed has such incredible detail that you can’t see without a macro lens. I was photographing Indian Pink blooms (Spigelia marilandica) at Green Spring Gardens last weekend and discovered this miniscule, yet-to-be-identified bug. I shortened and splayed out the legs of my tripod, plunked myself down in the dirt, then got settled in to examine all the angles I could photograph the slender two-inch-long tubular crimson blooms.

Stalking the miniscule
I saw this tiny white spec slowly moving along the edge of a stem and decided to follow it, moving in as close as my 105mm micro lens would allow. Magnification revealed all sorts of oddities in this little bug—a head like a spotted fish with big round eyes and a fuzzy coating, virtually no neck at all, a segmented thorax like a roly poly pill bug, followed by a cotton-candy-like burst of white fluff at the end of the body and crab-like freckled legs.

 

What in the world is it?
Brian, my photography mentor, said it could possibly be a larvae of a deer fly or horse fly, but without more photos with different angles, he couldn’t be sure. I looked online at larvae of various flies and don’t see anything that looks as odd as this little guy. He also said that it could be transitioning from larvae to adult stage, which makes it harder to identify.

When I moved toward it, it would hide behind the stem, so it clearly sensed my presence. To get it to move into the crook of the flower stem so I could photograph it unobstructed, I would wave my hand near it and it would move around the stem into view again. When I wasn’t looking at it through my lens, I was hard pressed to locate it—it was that small!

Learn something new every day
I learned a new word this morning, also courtesy of Brian. Entomologists have a word for unknown specs of stuff—frass. According to wikipedia, frass is the fine powdery material phytophagous (plant-eating) insects pass as waste after digesting plant parts. It causes plants to excrete chitinase due to high chitin levels, it is a natural bloom stimulant, and has high nutrient levels. Frass is known to have abundant amoeba, beneficial bacteria, and fungi content. Frass is a microbial inoculant, also known as a soil inoculant, that promotes plant health using beneficial microbes. It is a large nutrient contributor to the rainforest, and it can often be seen in leaf mines.

So, in the words of Martha Stewart: Frass…it’s a good thing!

What have I learned from this encounter?
The smallest, seemingly insignificant spec of dust or dirt may not just simply be “frass.” It just might be a live fuzzy-spotted, fish-headed, roly-poly-bodied, cotton-candy-tailed, crab-legged larvae-in-transition, making its teeny tiny way in this big old world. I also learned a new word—frass. F-r-a-s-s. Frass. And yes, I can use it in a sentence: Frass is a good thing.

Ah, my time behind the lens—never a dull moment!

__________________________________________________________________

* “To see the world in a grain of sand” is a line from William Blake’s poem, Auguries of Innocence. I found an enlightened explanation of the meaning of this line by an unknown author here, and wanted to share it with you:

Blake is never the easiest of poets to understand at the best of times, because he is the first by far who can justifiably lay claim to the title of symbolist poet, and as such is open to personal interpretation.

Here what he is, I think, saying is that one can find vast truths in the smallest of things—or to put it in fashionable literary terms, he’s dealing with the microcosmic as representative of the universal. So, knowledge of the whole world can be gained from examining its smallest constituent part, or later on, even such a small thing as a caged robin is an affront to both God and man—it’s a tiny thing but it’s symptomatic, and absolutely representative of the whole.

Not wanting to get too “Twilight Zone” here, but from the little I understand of today’s mathematics and physics, looking at Chaos Theory and the Mandelbrot set, Blake is indeed more literally right than he probably knew. The tiniest part of something does apparently indeed represent the entire construct, and the smallest thing can indeed have a huge effect—there’s allegedly a butterfly near Tokyo who with the flapping of its wings has a helluva lot to answer for 🙂

__________________________________________________________________

Ever wonder where “the butterfly effect” theory originated? Check this out here!

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.

 





Desktop poetry: Unfurled

4 01 2012

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.





Eye candy, batch #3

11 12 2011

Pulled from the archives of my personal refrigerator magnet poetry, and created with a garden-specific set of magnetic poetry (yes, there is such a product!), I give to you my handcrafted poem attempt #2.

in my garden
through spring and summer
flower bulb root sprout vine tendril emerge
brown earth explodes with life
struggles in the harsh noon light
blooming yellow red blue fresh
quietly full and wild and fertile
bug & bee work hard & long
and a thick green eden thrives
a blanket of peace rustles
beneath sunshine and shade above
I weed cut grow protect
then breathe relax reflect listen live
murmuring come here sacred rain
water more this labor of love
this canvas my art
soft sweet sanctuary

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.





Eye candy, batch #2

11 12 2011

Pulled from the archives of my personal refrigerator magnet poetry, I give to you my handcrafted attempt #1:

January snow blanket melts
cold February moon gone
March winds a memory
a luscious light envelopes
tiny crocus petals whisper spring
most delicate green grass emerges
rain sweetens the earth
bird song filters down
from the impossibly blue blue sky
warm breezes weave through
a gorgeous tapestry of color

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.





Re-post: An apology to the wood anemone…

21 05 2011

After posting that shot of a Wood Anemone, I remembered writing about one I was growing in my garden last year. This was originally posted April 5, 2010.

Lovely eight petal wood anemone
please accept my apology
More plants, I surely did not need any
but your price was reduced to a hundred pennies
Relegated to your preferred shady spot
remembering to plant you, I most certainly did not
Lost in the shuffle of spring and summer
as the King of Texas says, “what a bummer!”
you braved well over two feet of snow
yet still come spring, you put on a show
Please accept my apology
lovely eight petal wood anemone

Poem and photo © Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.






Lone Poppy

12 05 2011

The Little Garden

A little garden on a bleak hillside
Where deep the heavy, dazzling mountain snow
Lies far into the spring. The sun’s pale glow
Is scarcely able to melt patches wide
About the single rose bush. All denied
Of nature’s tender ministries. But no, —
For wonder-working faith has made it blow
With flowers many hued and starry-eyed.
Here sleeps the sun long, idle summer hours;
Here butterflies and bees fare far to rove
Amid the crumpled leaves of poppy flowers;
Here four o’clocks, to the passionate night above
Fling whiffs of perfume, like pale incense showers.
A little garden, loved with a great love!

—Amy Lowell, 1874–1925

Photo © Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.





Blooming in my garden: Oriental Poppy ‘Ruffled Patty’

12 05 2011

Papaver orientale ‘Ruffled Patty’—this hybrid perennial poppy blooms in May and June with huge pale pink flowers that have double and fringed petals. Zones 3-8, part to full sun and average soil, height 30″ / spread 18″

Summer set lip to earth’s bosom bare,
And left the flushed print in a poppy there.

—Francis Thompson, The Poppy, 1891

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.





Re-post: After a spring rain

6 05 2011

Originally posted 5/8/2009

Photos taken this morning at Green Spring Gardens, just after the morning downpour. This time I was prepared—I brought a large trash bag to sit on. Unfortunately, when one sits on a slope to photograph a flower, one will soon find one’s behind sliding off the edge of the plastic and one’s pants would soon absorb the surrounding mud and water. I speak from experience. Ah, well. No pain, no beautiful flower shots, eh?

A Spring Rain by Raymond A. Foss

The world is wet today
luxurious, damp, drenched
drops hug the leaves,
anoint the still budded lilac blossoms
before their blooming
rich purple and plum
made richer by their watery skin
New leaves under the weight
droplets heavy, hanging
bowing the white pine needles
undersides exposed to drink
drink in the morning
hushed in the rain
temperature near the dewpoint
sprouts of just planted flowers
eager from the parched soil
new puddles bloom too
on the ground, the driveway
collect and gather
without the smell of summer rain yet
tears splash and spread
silent shimmers, heralds, messengers
in the spring rain

__________________________________________________________

I came across the above poem and it was perfect for this posting. I looked at the name and wondered why it looked so familiar. Apparently I’m drawn to this man’s nature- and garden-inspired poetry because I published (with his permission) another of his poems on my blog in August 2007. His poem was a great accompaniment for my posting about harvesting Concord grapes in our backyard garden. Click here for that post and Raymond’s beautiful poem, Smell of Autumn. I most recently posted his poem, Chartreuse, on my blog in April. Click here for that post. Raymond has written more than 11,000 poems to date and all of them can be found here. Click on “Poems” beneath his photo. Raymond’s blog can be found here.

Thank you for letting me share your poetry on my blog, Raymond. If you ever want to publish a book of your poetry, give me a shout—I would love to design it for you!

Photos © Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.

GreenSpringCollage





Not a spider the expanse of a cat

5 03 2011

PREFACE: I’m 100% certain that my fellow bloggers get a plethora of spam in their comments on WordPress. I’m also certain that many of them make no sense, such as the one I received below. It was in paragraph form, but as I read it (What can I say? It was a slow day), I discovered a sort of whimsical, non-sensical “poem” emerging. The poem I extracted is “as is,” originating from one spam paragraph. It reminds me of Lewis Carroll’s Jabberwocky poem (Can you believe this? Michael can recite Jabberwocky without missing a line!) I call this one: “Not a spider the expanse of a cat” (FYI—I did a search online with a few of the lines from this “poem” and have discovered this spammer frequents many sites and intersperses this same text (along with some expletives I chose to eliminate) with links to some pretty unsavory sites—not that I visited them, mind you.)

Not a spider the expanse of a cat (or A Spammer’s Jabberwocky)

For all to see! Gone.
And I slip up on the damsel, miss the bus,
the fossil monkey around!

Clara Hyummel kicked in annoyance
nor guiltless stool.
My sinfulness, Alya, overlooked!
Underestimated. Escaped!
Escaped and sealed the portal!

Has not regretted his forebear’s amulet,
just utilized us astray blow.
Valid devoted, Clara, what do we do now?
Moaned aunt Aglaia, his governor in his hands.

Spacious kitchens, sink traces of unbridled paddy
conflict sorceress a pair on the loose.
Pitch-black spots enthusiastic on the walls,
to Clara in the zeal of prod on the lightning,
unshapely piles of dishes and utensils,
swept from their seats,
reared in a far corner of the nautical plate.

On the ceiling crazy tossing some living thing physical:
it does not wing, not a spider the expanse of a cat,
and his glancing by the way, and his loss Clara had created,
and then some often sighting shot fireballs.
What to do now? Clara buhnulas in a spiritless rocking-chair
with his leather-covered elk legs on the fare and began to meet up.
Do nothing, Alya. He was quite already in Meline.
And there he finds himself Archmage.





Bumblebee on Water Lily

27 06 2010

Hey, this is a nice angle…lemme crop out that brown leaf on the left…and now wait until the sun goes behind that cloud…mmmm…nice and graphic…black, white, green, yellow pop in the center…let’s try a vertical…focus, click, view screen…nah, horizontal is better…focus, click, view screen, change aperture, focus, click, refocus, click, click…now if only a dragonfly would land right smack in the middle…then it would be perfect…oooh, oooh, a bumblebee!…quick, refocus, click! Just one shot before he buzzed away, but here it is. (Cropping it as a square made for a more dynamic image in this case.)

Ode Tae a Bumble Bee

Wee hoverin’, fleein’ ferlie fello’,
Wi’ yer stripes o’ black and yello’,
Yer ever sae bonnie, so ye ur,
Like a spring lamb—only smaller and withoot the fur,
But see if ye ever sting me oan the bum again,
Ah’m gonnae jump on yer heid so Ah um.

—Stuart McLean (from No’ Rabbie Burns)

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.






Blue Dasher Dragonfly

27 06 2010

The Dragonfly

Today I saw the dragon-fly
Come from the wells where he did lie.
An inner impulse rent the veil
Of his old husk: from head to tail
Came out clear plates of sapphire mail.
He dried his wings: like gauze they grew;
Thro’ crofts and pastures wet with dew
A living flash of light he flew.

—Alfred Lord Tennyson, 1833

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.





H.M. Dyer’s ‘Ode to a cheesecake’

6 04 2010

I must preface my father’s poem (below) by explaining his urge to write about a cheesecake in the first place. In February we hosted a very scaled back Chocoholic Party for friends—aptly renamed the “Cabin Fever with Chocolate Party.” It was scaled back from our annual soiree because of the unprecedented piles of snow in our area, which resulted in virtually no parking for guests from outside the neighborhood. (This annual party usually brings in 35+ chocoholics, so ample parking is necessary!) So, if you could walk to our house in 30+ inches of snow, you were a guest! Anyway, earlier in the week we bought a cheesecake from Costco during our rounds to gather food for this semi-potluck party. I was sitting at the computer working a few days before the party when Michael came downstairs—a brown wrapped package in one hand and a shovel in the other—and unlocked the patio door. I watched him, wondering if he was going to dig a path through the almost three feet of snow to the back gate (and why?). He proceeded to dig a hole into the snow bank just outside the door and buried the package. I then asked, “what in the world did you just bury?” “Cheesecake!” he exclaimed. “There wasn’t any room for it in the refrigerator and since the party is just two days away, I figured it would keep.” There you have it. Such a resourceful man. I think I’ll keep him.

So, my ‘An apology to the wood anemone’ poem (see my previous posting) has inspired my father to write his wonderful ‘Ode to a cheesecake.’ Bravo, bravo, King of Texas! Here are his comments to my post, followed by his poem.

_________________________________________________________________________

In advance of posting this comment, I humbly offer my abject apologies to the preacher John Donne, to the poet Joyce Kilmer and to the author of ‘An apology to the wood anemone’ . . . It’s not my fault—it’s in my nature—it’s something I cannot control. Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea culpa maxima.

Ode to a cheesecake

Breathes there one with soul so dead
That never to one’s self hath said
Methinks that I shall never see
A word so lovely as anemone.

Offed from my tongue it rolls
Sadly as the bell that tolls
Not for thee and not for me
Nor for the lovely anemone.

But for the cheesecake in its bower
Not ‘neath trees nor plants nor showers
Nay, ‘neath snowstorms full of power
Lying beneath the snow for hours
In wait for the chocolate party
To be eaten by goers hearty.

But wait, what’s that I see
Beside the cheesecake ‘neath the snow
The anemone arises ready to go
With the cheesecake to the table
Petals eight to be divided
Among the diners so excited
A ‘nemone to see.

They smell the petals
They hear the bell
They’ll come to know
As time will tell
If snow and cheesecake
Sounds their knell
Or leaves them alive
And well.

— H.M. Dyer (1932-     )

I neglected to give credit to Sir Walter Scott for his poem ‘The lay of the last minstrel’ in my ‘Ode to a cheesecake’—credit is now given. I also neglected to say that I loved your poem ‘An apology to the wood anemone’… Well done!

Your anemone arising from the snow is reminiscent of Thoreau’s “Walden,” in which he tells of a golden bug that in the spring gnawed its way out of a table after being entombed in the wood for many years.

_____________________________________________

See more of my father’s pondering, hypothesizing and philosophizing, musings, comments, lectures, diatribes, royal reflections and revelations, essays, memoirs, biographies and autobiographies, tall tales, fables, childhood memories, yarns, jokes, poems, political and social commentary, and my favorite of his topics—excellent grammatical lessons—on his website, thekingoftexas.wordpress.com.





Blooming in the garden today

10 07 2009

My Star Gazer Lily
blooms
with colossal flowers of pink fire.
Its stamens lick the air
with pollen-covered tongues
of orange flames.
The trinity of blossoms lean heavy,
would topple and only ogle earth
with bright freckled eyes
if I had not propped them
against a colorful pot.
Heady fragrance fills the room,
demands attention.
A lower petal rests like a benediction
on the porcelain head
of an angel poised with a silent harp,
as if flower shakti could bring
the angel to life.
No shy, tiny violet
this plant blares its presence
in a trumpet of color,
declares its allegiance
to life with the vibrancy
of a Flamenco dancer,
castanets clacking,
red dress whirling,
feet stamping.
Its verve stirs me with purpose,
calls me to action
with the torch of love blazing,
a conflagration of pasión.

© 2006 Sher Lianne Christian

This beautiful poem was reprinted with permission by Sher Lianne Christian. Find more of Sher’s poetry and creative essays on her blog, www.lusciouspoetry.typepad.com/. Sher hosts the Third Sunday Poetry Reading and Open Mic at Coffee Catz in Sebastopol, CA, accompanied by her husband John on accordian and keyboard. She is the author of Star Kissed Shadows, Divining Poetry, available for purchase on her website. Click here to learn more about Sher, John, and their spoken-word CD, Sweet Tongue, Assorted Poems & Music, released in 2007.

Photo © Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved. See another Stargazer lily I posted in July last year here.

Check out my garden-photos-only portfolio at:

http://cindydyer.zenfolio.com/p270076135

StargazerLilyCloseup





Water like satin

26 05 2009

Sunset begins at Lake Land ‘Or © Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.

The Lake. To — by Edgar Allan Poe (1827)

In spring of youth it was my lot
To haunt of the wide world a spot
The which I could not love the less—
So lovely was the loneliness
Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
And the tall pines that towered around.

But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all,
And the mystic wind went by
Murmuring in melody—
Then, ah then I would awake
To the terror of the lone lake.

Yet that terror was not fright,
But a tremendous delight—
A feeling not the jewelled mine
Could teach or bribe me to define—
Nor Love—although the Love were thine.

Death was in that poisonous wave,
And in its gulf a fitting grave
For him who thence could solace bring
To his lone imagining—
Whose solitary soul could make
An Eden of that dim lake.

CanoeLakeLandOr





Desktop poetry: In my garden

4 08 2008

© Cindy Dyer, 2008. All rights reserved.





Blue Chicory

21 07 2008

Blue Chicory
It has made its way, on wind
far into the city, and it nods there,
on street corners, in what July wind
it slips garner. Since childhood
I have loved it, it is so violet-blue,
its root, its marrow, so interred,
prepared to suffer, impossible to move.
Weed, wildflower, grown waist-high
where it is no one’s responsibility
to mow, its blue-white
center frankly open
as an eye, it flaunts
its tender, living lingerie,
the purple hairs of its interior.
Women are weeds and weeds are women
I once heard a woman say.
Bloom where you are planted, said my mother.

Catherine Rankovic (reprinted with permission)

Learn more about Catherine here: http://www.catherinerankovic.com/

I photographed this tiny pastel-blue flower against a grand backdrop of sunny yellow sunflowers at McKee-Besher Wildlife Management Area in Poolesville, MD this past weekend. Here’s a map showing the location. Learn more about this wildflower’s history, growth habit and herbal use here.

Photograph © Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.





On fire with bloom…

21 06 2008

Tropaeolum majus (Garden Nasturtium or Indian Cress)—Learn how to grow them at GardenGuides.com. This annual edible flower blooms late spring to early fall, requires sun to partial shade, and is native to Hawaii. The title of this posting is taken from this excerpt from a poem titled, “Guests,” by Celia Thaxter, a nineteenth century poet and gardener.

Guests
Sunflower tall and hollyhock
that wave in the wind together,
Corn-flower, poppy, and marigold, blossoming
fair and fine,
Delicate sweet-peas, glowing bright in the quiet
autumn weather,
While over the fence, on fire with bloom,
climbs the nasturtium vine

You can read the entire poem at poemhunter.com.

My fellow garden blogger, Kathryn Hall, has written a wonderful review of Thaxter’s book, An Island Garden, on her blog, Plant Whatever Brings You Joy! You can read the text of An Island Garden (sans the lovely illustrations by Childe Hassam, an American Impressionist painter) on the Occasional Gardener‘s blog.

And if you’re ever in the Maine, there are guided tours of Celia Thaxter’s Garden on Appledore Island, conducted by Shoals Marine Laboratory. The site also showcases photographs taken in the garden.

© Cindy Dyer. All rights reserved.