There is no feeling quite like learning that a magazine you respect and enjoy reading has accepted something you have written. It feels as though you have been handed not just a bouquet but a whole wall of flowers. Though the poem itself has a distinctly autumnal feel, the news of its publication felt more like the merry month of May.
My poem, “When the Time Comes,” will appear in the Fall Issue of Third Wednesday Magazine, and it has already been published online, on the magazine’s website.
(These photographs are of downtown Park Rapids, Minnesota.)
The botanical term that inspired this poem, “monotype,” does not appear in the poem. Exploring its meaning, however, made me think of how we are able to see the uniqueness of those people (and situations and locations and objects, too) that are important to us. It especially takes time and attention to perceive the deep individuality that marks each person. And then, despite a consistent core, he or she keeps growing and changing!
Today’s poem is dedicated to my sister, Karla. Today is her birthday. Her life is a gift to everyone who knows her. Among her many virtues, as some of you long-time readers know, she is an exceptional photographer of the natural world. (To see past posts that feature her photography, you can search on “Karla Schultz WinonaMedia”.) The photographs in this post are all from her. I want to thank her for allowing me to share her artistic gifts with you.
LESLIE
Photo: Karla SchultzPhoto: Karla SchultzPhoto: Karla SchultzPhoto: Karla Schultz
The botanical term for today is “filiform” which (again!) is derived from Latin, this one from the word for “thread.” It is related to the word “filament.” I fell in love with its sound. Immediately, it made me think of spider webs–not botanical or accurate–(although I see that late Latin used the verb “filare”, meaning “to spin”). Now, I suspect, the spider web will join with “filiform” in a persistent association for me. And it offered me a chance to share again some favorite images from past posts.
Today, after “catching” two slight poems, small webs of words, I needed to disentangle myself.
It is sunny here and will be warm and lovely. The house is quiet. It seems like the perfect time to tackle those self-renewing sticky indoor spider webs that old houses simply generate without permission or cessation, and also to ply some thread in the borders of a small wall quilt that I am finishing.
(Photo: Leslie Schultz Window–Winchester Mystery House, San Jose, California)(Photo: Karla Schultz Dewy Web)(Photo: Leslie Schultz Spider Web, Winchester Mystery House, San Jose, California)(Photo: Leslie Schultz, Frozen Web, Our House)
Today’s prompt was a word that I knew but did not know was a botanical term: “Deltoid”. I have never quite noticed how the cottonwood tree produces triangular leaves, or that the veins on the leaves resemble the mouths of the world’s great rivers.
That word and context made me think of the triangle, the delta shape, and from there to memories along the Mississippi River.
Another borrowing a few hundred years ago into English from Latin, the adjective “coriaceous” is deemed a “botanical nerd word” by the Toronto Botanical Garden. (In Latin, “corium” means “leather.”) How does this animal terms mix it up with the plant world? It is another metaphorical seed contained within the word itself. Think of the stiff and tough leaves of waterlilies or rhododendrons or oak leaves. Even tougher and stiffer after a long winter on the ground. The oak leaves pictured blew onto our patio this week, all bronzy and gleaming. They are beautiful in their own way, but we are ready for the soft greens of early spring so they seem to me distinctly out of season.
More on “Bracts”: According to my friend, Bob Bensen, bracts are modified leaves often thought of as flower parts. But they are leaves that are often a sign of flowers to come. Thanks, Bob!
