Brooklyn Botanical Garden 2 (Thursday Doors)
The shades of autumn speak
in a a language that needs no words–
like sky reflected in water
Like trees reflected in glass,
like leaves floating on time–
the shades of autumn speak.
Leaves whisper on the wind–
light echoes inside form
in a language that needs no words.
As seasons seek connection
the boundaries intersect–
like sky reflected in water.
The Brooklyn Botanical Garden opened in 1911, fell into disrepair as the century progressed as so much of the city did, and was restored in the 1980s. Even though I lived in Brooklyn for a short time in the 70s, I never visited the garden until I had children. We went fairly often in the early 2000s.
The Steinhardt Conservatory stands at the edge of the Lily Pool Terrace, which contains over 100 varieties of water lilies and lotuses. The Conservatory itself includes a bonsai museum and and aquatic greenhouse, so it’s on my list to visit the next time I get to the garden. Find more photos and information here.
At the other end of the pool is the Laboratory Administration Building, designed by the famous architecture firm of McKim Mead and White. Opened in 1918, it was designated a NYC Landmark in 2007. Inspired by European churches, the interior has a Greek Cross layout. You can read more about it here.
My poem is a cascade about autumn, for Muri’s Scavenger hunt, and includes the word shade, which is Esther Chilton’s writing prompt for this week. I’ve been wanting to do one of her prompts for a long time.
And you can always find more doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Greater Sage Grouse (Draw a Bird Day)
expansive,
this clinquant carpet–
roots capture
water, feed
both animal and plant life–
keep the land intact
The greater sage grouse is the largest grouse in North America. Its only habitat is the plains, foot hills, and mountain slopes where sagebrush grows. This makes it extremely vulnerable to habitat loss; the population of sixteen million 100 years ago is now estimated to be less than 500,000. This decline is due to the usual issues: clearing of land, overgrazing, residential and energy development, herbicides, wildfires, and non-native invasive species. Despite these issues, Congress declined to list these birds as endangered.
Both males and females have brownish grey mottled feathers, but the males are distinguished by yellow patches above their eyes and yellow air sacs on their neck which they inflate during their elaborate courtship rituals. As they puff out their chests, they fan their tails into starbursts and emit pops and whistles.
Each spring up to seventy males gather in a group called a lek to perform for several hours in the morning and evening while the females watch. Only one or two dominant males win the contest to mate with the females. Males do not participate in chick-rearing.
Seventy percent of the sage grouse diet consists of sage. They also eat dandelion, legumes, yarrow and wild lettuces. Insects are the primary food for chicks. Sage grouse nest on the ground and adequate cover is crucial for nesting. Predators include coyotes, bobcats, badgers, falcons, and eagles. Crows, ravens, and magpies feed on juveniles and prey on nests.
My poem is a shadorma for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday, using a word from the uncommon fall words list she provided. I chose “clinquant”, which means glittering with gold and silver, to describe the sagebrush ecosystem which can look both silvery, from the sagebrush vegetation, and golden, from the pale yellow flowers that appear in late summer.
Sagebrush is the foundation for this ecosystem which supports many native species besides the sage grouse, including burrowing owls, pygmy rabbits, mule deer, pronghorn, and bighorn sheep. The Audubon website says “Nearly 100 bird species depend on sagebrush country for their habitat needs.” It is a beautiful landscape, well worth preserving.
Torii Gate (Thursday Doors)
pond
reflected landscape–
koi swirl, surfacing
path
circles around–
another gate appears
time
is lost
in cloudless sky
looking
for turtles–
sun-dappled rocks
threshold
crosses over–
matter becomes spirit
Torii Gates are Japanese Shinto structures marking the entrance to sacred spaces such as shrines, temples, or natural landscapes. They serve as transitioning boundaries between the ordinary and spiritual worlds. The vermilion red color symbolizes vitality and life force, and also has the power to ward off evil.
After seeing the Moomins at the library, my daughter and I went to the Brooklyn Botanical Garden, a short walk down Eastern Parkway, right next to the Brooklyn Museum. We wanted to visit the koi pond in the Japanese Garden, which we realized we had not gone to see in over ten years. The koi are still busy begging, although unlike during our previous visits no one was feeding them when we were there.
We then walked the path around the pond before wandering a bit through other parts of the Garden and heading home. I photographed some other doors, but those are for another post.
I’ve taken inspiration from two prompts this week for my poems, while at the same time following neither one. Michelle at W3 offered the hay(na)ku poetry form, one which I like a lot. I did not, however, follow through with the suggested theme of love. Instead, inspired by Selma’s Tanka Tuesday prompt to use Basho’s work as a jumping off point, I wrote a group of five hay(na)kus that reflected my visit to the Japanese Garden.
And, as always, don’t forget to look for more doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
October 2025
The days cling together, drifting like fallen leaves on a pond. Nothing is certain. Movement is constant, uncapturable, unpredictable. I wander, enchanted, as light translates form—arrhythmic, yet patterned in colors, shadows, currents. Afloat on autumn’s tides, the earth dreams.
squirrel pauses, waiting
for a handout—mallard drifts
in the ebb and flow–
time hesitates, caught between
tangled seasons–shapeshifting
I decided to do something a little different this month for my grid by using a selection of autumn photos from my archives. These were taken mostly in Central Park and Riverside Park, with a couple from the Botanical Garden in the Bronx. I love the light of autumn–my favorite season.
My tanka haibun is for the dVerse prompt from Mish and Muri’s Scavenger Hunt #1 prompt to write about (fallen) leaves.
May 2025 Late Cherry Blossoms
Spring begins like the first page of a journal, an anticipation open to every possibility. The first tentative marks are inflused with expectation—are they image words or word images or both merged together? Can we keep the entries in chronological order or must they be unbound, tossed like a salad?
Myriad landscapes and passages become layered with intricacies of form, lines and shadows, subtle changes in hue, sudden burst of color and light. The sky beckons in blue.
pink blossoms linger
amidst newborn greenery
shifting points of view
It’s been a beautiful spring week in NYC. Above, Central Park on Tuesday.
My haibun is for Frank’s dVerse prompt, late cherry blossoms.
The Mirror Shield Project at the Met (Thursday Doors)
“As artists, we live on the periphery. But we are the mirrors. We are the reflective points that break through a barrier.” -Cannupa Hanska Luger
ourselves reflected
in what we see–are mirrors
windows? thresholds? doors?
serpentine lightlines
ask who we are–revealing
our actions—speaking out loud
These mirror-shield photos were taken from a video I watched several times in an exhibit of Native American art at the Met. You can find a the whole video and more information about the project here. A summary from the exhibit is below.
I’ve written a mondo, which is the Tanka Tuesday form proposed by Melissa for this week, but I’ve used the theme of window proposed by Dora at dVerse–at least in a slanted way.
The windows and doors outside the Met reflect its own landscape, seen in its own always changing light.
As a footnote, the Times published a list of forbidden words for American government paperwork now. “Native American” is a among them, along with Black, Latinx, LGBT, and head-scratchingly, woman and female. If I don’t exist, they can’t collect taxes from me, right?
And be sure to visit Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion, for more doors from all over the world.
Ghosts (Thursday Doors)
I thought I
saw the ghost of Superman
shimmering inside screens,
finding the Kryptonite,
transforming Lies
into Truth
When I went to the library to see a textile exhibit last week, I realized I had forgotten the phone booths that I had photographed when I went to see an exhibit last year of photos from the Arctic. I meant to post them long ago along with the Arctic art. But better late than never (the textiles will have to wait).
They evidently don’t work, but I’m glad they’ve kept them around, as a reminder of my youth, when you were not expected to be staring at a tiny screen, available 24 hours a day. Also a time when the idea of integrity still had some value
It turned out a lot of the photographs related very well to Thursday doors. The above two, of a winter hut and a skin tent, were taken by John Lapham Dunmore and George P Critcherson during an expedition to the Arctic in 1873.
Evgenia Arbugaeva’s haunting images of her native Siberia were taken in 2019.
Taken in northern Canada in 2007, these are by Scarlett Hooft.
And in serendipity with recent news, these two houses in Greenland were photographed by Tina Itkonen in 2017.
Here’s the sextant used by Robert Peary during his Arctic expedition.
My poem is a seox, the form proposed by Robbie in her new Spin the Bottle challenge, in answer to the W3 prompt by Sarah for a short poem about renewal. We could use a bit of Superman to repair all the broken pieces of our world right now.
Sebastian Copeland’s “Iceberg” from 2008
And don’t forget to visit Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion, where you’ll always find lots of beautiful doors from around the world.
Just like I remembered them…
The Center Shifts (Thursday Doors)
1
Gardens grow secrets,
moonwandering endlessly
between, resting only
long enough to begin again.
2
Life roots wild, dark,
ancient, treespirited.
Seeds grow, reaching
toward the stars.
3
Rivers forested
with wind follow
the path of birdlight
inside time’s eye.
4
The seasons know
always never remains–
spring summer fall winter-
opening, then closing again.
5
After cycles through
the same earthpath
as before—voices echo
back—dancing, winged.
We visited the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx a few weeks ago. They were featuring an Alice in Wonderland theme, as well as plenty of pumpkins. The above structure is in the Rose Garden.
Here’s the cottage by the entrance to the Rose Garden.
We did a lot of walking, passing by this stone mill–I hope to get a closer look on a future visit.
A rabbit for Dan–posing as many of his neighborhood rabbits do. I took lots more photos, but will save them for a future post.
It was a beautiful autumn day, which inspired my poem, a cadralor of 64 words incorporating the words dark and light for Sheila’s W3 prompt. We only have one earth. I wish America had voted to take better care of it.
Someone’s got to stop us now
Save us from us, Gaia
–James Taylor
And you can always find more doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Pray for the forest pray to the tree
Pray for the fish in the deep blue sea
Pray for yourself and for God’s sake
Say one for me
Belvedere Castle (Thursday Doors)
first step up
and up and then look
down—so much
greenery
speaking—listen—the wind hums,
sailing on earthsong
Belvedere Castle sits on Vista Rock, the second highest elevation in Central Park. I’ve often looked at and photographed it from afar (as in the first photo), but I had never actually visited it before two weeks ago. While walking in Central Park, my visitors and I spotted a sign with an arrow pointing to Belvedere Castle, and decided to follow the path and climb the stairs up.
“Belvedere” means “beautiful view” in Italian, and the word fits. Overlooking the Ramble, the Great Lawn, and the Turtle Pond, there are vistas in every direction.
Every article I looked at called the Castle a “folly”–designed by Calvert Vaux and Jacob Wrey Mould in the late 1800s, it was originally intended to be much larger, but a lack of funds scaled down the final structure. A mixture of Romanesque and Gothic styles, with its doors and windows open to the weather, it had no original purpose save to provide a view.
Its tower has long served as the weather station for Central Park, although the building was closed, abandoned, and left to decay and vandalization in the 1960s, as so much of the city was.
In the 1980s, the Central Park Conservancy renovated and restored it, and in 2018 they replaced the open doors and windows with glass. The Castle now serves as a Visitor Center and Gift Shop, and is the headquarters for the Urban Park Rangers’ programs that include birding, stargazing, and wildlife education.
When I saw Lisa’s prompt words for Tanka Tuesday, “castle” immediately jumped out at me. I also included step, down, listen, and sail in my shadorma.
Here’s some historical photos and drawings. And don’t forget to check out all the doors at Thursday Doors, hosted by Dan Antion.
Beach I Ching 18: #53 Chien (gradual progress)
1
The journey seeks
completion, gradual transformation.
2
Roots are patient–
foundation unfolds unseen.
3
Skywind beckons birds
to follow the path of the seasons.
4
Growth yields to the rhythm,
the ongoing process of life’s turning.
5
Time bends, knows when to wait,
when to open wings, dance.
It’s been awhile (over two years) since I’ve done a Beach I Ching post, but my visit to the beach recently made me want to get back to it. This photo is from 2014, the first year I started arranging shells in this way, and I’ve been doing photos every year since then. But I’ve only done 18 of the 64 Hexagrams, and I’ve only just almost finished the photos from the first year. Each year’s photos are slightly, and sometimes very, different, so it will be interesting to see how that affects what I do with the rest of the hexagrams. Hopefully there will not be a two year gap until the next one.
I find that when I do finally get around to it, the hexagram is always appropriate to the times. The poem with my synthesized interpretation of the message is a quadrille for dVerse, where Lisa provided the word bend.
And, as usual, here are some quotes from the resources I consulted about #53.
Let each step be its own adventure and it’s own goal. Now is the time to focus on today. Tomorrow will still come.– ifate.com
Beware of greed and egotistical ambitions. Concentrate on steady long-term goals with a focus on real values.– motheringchange.com
The natural order of things does not push the tree to grow faster, nor does it try to influence the speed or course of the river.– Bobby Klein
We grow into life’s possibilities.– Hilary Barrett
method two madness 
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