Photo of the Month: April 2023

This time, I didn’t write an essay on a particular topic that I thought would suit this month’s photo. Nor did I even think of a topic.

Instead, I decided that I wanted to share a poem by a poet I particularly like, Mary Oliver. She has many wise, intriguing pieces that I enjoy – reading them is much like my wanders through the woods, conscious that I never know what I’ll happen upon.

This poem is reminiscent of my post “Connection“, especially on slipping out of one’s skin and into the woods. Personally, I find it to be a breath of fresh air. I hope that it inspires wanderlust and oneness in you, too.

RECKLESS POEM

Today again I am hardly myself.
It happens over and over.
It is heaven-sent.

It flows through me
like the blue wave.
Green leaves — you may believe this or not —
have once or twice
emerged from the tips of my fingers

somewhere
deep in the woods,
in the reckless seizure of spring.

Though, of course, I also know that other song,
the sweet passion of one-ness.

Just yesterday I watched an ant crossing a path, through the
tumbled pine needles she toiled.
And I thought: she will never live another life but this one.
And I thought: if she lives her life with all her strength
is she not wonderful and wise?
And I continued this up the miraculous pyramid of everything
until I came to myself.

And still, even in these northern woods, on these hills of sand,
I have flown from the other window of myself
to become white heron, blue whale,
red fox, hedgehog.
Oh, sometimes already my body has felt like the body of a flower!
Sometimes already my heart is a red parrot, perched
among strange, dark trees, flapping and screaming.

-Mary Oliver

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A note to my readers: I’ve decided not to continue my photos of the months posts on the basis that I feel they’ve served their purpose. Of course, I’ll remain writing posts and sharing my photography; this blog is too much fun to end just yet. Stay tuned for new ventures!