Notes from a Tree/12

A bud in September (a budding September,

two-thousand and thirteen) –

delicate, yet sturdy

soft, green and furry

tempting

inquisitive

fingertips:

“Touch me.”

bud_0384_lores

The tree

– like the whole garden –

is a riot of vigorous green

like an orchestra

boisterous

clamouring

bursting towards my camera

willing me to capture it.

I try to.

IMG_0408_fire29_lores

a riot of vigorous green

IMG_0411-fire69_lores

boisterous, clamouring…

IMG_0400_fire30-ed_lores

bursting towards my camera

 

I am obsessed with this tree

obsessed with the shapes of its branches

which I photograph from every angle.

IMG_0412_fire28_lores

the shapes of its branches

And the spaces in between its dancer’s gesturing arms

draw me

like Alice’s looking-glass.

IMG_0410_lores

The spaces in between its arms

Still AWOL

I had been asked not to use any pins, so on January 28th I dragged myself to Parsonage Gardens to tie my Missing poster to the magnolia tree.  It had taken me all day to get there from ten minutes’ walk away (sometimes the shortest journeys take the longest time), and dusk had fallen.

20140128_165515

The Missing poster at dusk (1)

20140128_165430

The Missing poster at dusk (2)

20140128_165658

The Missing poster at dusk (3)

I took some pictures on my phone of the buds against the darkening sky,

20140128_165813

The buds against the darkening sky (1)

… and a final cartoon shot, before leaving.

20140128_165945

The buds against the darkening sky (2)

Two days later I returned, to see what it looked like in daylight.

in daylight

What it looks like in daylight

buds, buds, glorious buds...

Buds, buds, glorious buds…