http://heidiyountphotography.com/summer/series-1/ http://heidiyountphotography.com/summer/series-1/#comments Tue, 02 Aug 2011 03:35:25 +0000 heidi http://heidiyountphotography.com/site/?p=310

I think about the field of grass I lay in once, between Omaha and Lincoln. It was summer, I think....
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I think about the field of grass I lay in once,
between Omaha and Lincoln. It was summer, I think.
The air smelled green, and wands of windy green, a-sway,
a-sway, swayed over me. I lay on green sod
like a prairie snake letting the sun warm me.

What does a girl think about alone
in a field of grass, beneath a sky as bright
as an Easter dress, beneath a green wind?

words by Janice N. Harrington

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The brief secrets are still here,
and the light has come back.
The word remember touches my hand,
But I shake it off and watch the turkey buzzards bank and wheel
Against the occluded sky.
All of the little names sink down,
weighted with what is invisible,
But no one will utter them, no one will smooth their rumpled hair.

words by Charles Wright

It’s all I have to bring today –
This, and my heart beside –
This, and my heart, and all the fields –
And all the meadows wide –
Be sure you count – should I forget
Some one the sum could tell –
This, and my heart, and all the Bees
Which in the Clover dwell.

words by Emily Dickinson

When for too long I don’t go deep enough
into the woods to see them, they begin to
enter my dreams. Yes, there they are, in the
pinewoods of my inner life. I want to live a life
full of modesty and praise. Each hoof of each
animal makes the sign of a heart as it touches
then lifts away from the ground. Unless you
believe that heaven is very near, how will you
find it? Their eyes are pools in which one
would be content, on any summer afternoon,
to swim away through the door of the world.
Then, love and its blessing. Then: heaven.

words by Mary Oliver

We drove for days searching for a family who existed only in the remains of the land. Could there be anybody left, some distant relative who knew my great grandmother? We found no one, only memories trapped in a landscape.

words by Heidi Yount