I’ve lived in this Berlin neighbourhood for seven years. That’s the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place. I buy my groceries from grocers who chat with me, flowers from a florist whose children go to the same school as mine, receive parcels from delivery men who know me by sight. Not everyone knows how…Read more The Tree Planters
Spring Landscapes
5 Years of Spring
It had been the perfect spring morning, full of rose-colored light, the air as soft as petals after winter’s sluggish passing. The apple trees in the garden were thick with white blossoms, the young cherry trees full of dark purplish buds nearly ready to unfurl. Soon the locust, the linden, the lilacs and chestnuts would…Read more 5 Years of Spring
March, the Death of Winter
Some thoughts on the loose ends of winter: Remnants that scatter. Swept out. Soon to be forgotten. Bared by the persistent cold prove too fragile to stand, neither whole, nor in any semblance of form. A relentless wind, whipping panic, freezing each and every protuberance. Removing the timid, Exposing all that is meager. There is…Read more March, the Death of Winter
Flower & Fruit
The sugary scent of the plump fruit caramelizing in the summer heat was so delicious. The warm air was like syrup. Even the wind gave long slow sighs, relishing its lazy caresses on the soft flesh among the leaves (blushing :-)). The birds flitted around so carefree, plump and content, they happily savored the pick…Read more Flower & Fruit
Gilded Willow
All that glitters is not gold. Those who love have all the riches. Walking under the willow trees today, I imagined how amazing it would be to capture their beauty in stained glass. Willows set in jewel tones, art-deco style, cascading from the ceiling. Perhaps a ruby hummingbird or an emerald dragonfly also reveals itself within the scene upon closer…Read more Gilded Willow
A Snow of Petals
A snow of petals in the wind, Is the ice cream of frigid flurries, Melting, unfurling, swirling, In a sweet, slow grace. Textures, gestures Linger, So closely held, Cherished As they disappear.
Birch Woods Spring
Birch woods spring, Delicate stuttering, Diaphanous muttering, of sweetly invisible blooms. Walking softly, Someone calling my name. A hush ascends to listening. Silvery streams beneath us, whispering promises as they wake.
Winter Fades to Pink
Goodbye winter, hello spring? March comes in like a lion, but goes out like a lamb? Slowly we linger. The days, longer. The sunlight, brighter. A warmth to the air, dirt and water smells rising. Hopeful we remain. Could it be spring? Text and photos © M.P. Baecker and http://www.alightcircle.com 2017.
A Light Circle 