Wednesday, April 08, 2009


If I knew it was there
I wouldn't let it grow
If I knew the person it was
I'd tuck more blankets of snow
Boundless, I've marshaled armies
Obliterated my foes
Not knowing who was watching
Curled blindly below


Aggie said...

That's a gorgeous pic ... the embryo is blind until birth ... very thought provoking.

Aniket said...

Its beautiful Jason... and its so wonderful how you bring out different shades from each of your pics.

Each peiece is so distinctly different from another and portrays a complete new flow of emotions.

A great title to the post too... suits is perfectly.

Karen said...

"I'd tuck more blankets of snow"

I love the irony of this nurturing action with the reality of its result,

"Boundless, I've marshaled armies
Obliterated my foes".

The clauses that begin this poem personify the vagaries of nature. Excellent poem.

the walking man said...

Even in the harshest of climes if the embryo is tucked in or simply left alone it will grow beyond its snowy blanket.

Catvibe said...

That is a fantastic shot, and it does look like an egg doesn't it? I'm really mixed about the words between finding something within yourself you don't want to see, or if it was an objective comparison then I am angry that something so beautiful can be so misleading...

Thought provoking words.

word =suregun

Margaret said...

Jason, this is a brilliant photo! The colours are just fantastic.

The poem is just as awesome as the pic. It's a poem that captivates you, makes you think deep and takes you into another place and time. I even felt like curling up and making myself invisible.

strugglingwriter said...

Do your crocuses still look this nice? Ours have lost their petals already. I guess that heavy wind didn't help them much.

Sarah Hina said...

I'm finding this a very sad union of photo and poem. So much beauty that's now untrusted and unwanted. Maybe man's need to see enemies and destroy is the only timeless thing.

What a photo that is, though! :) Very nice effect, too.

jason evans said...

Aggie, thanks! These flowers had such rich colors. I had fun exploring them with the camera.

Aniket, thank you for saying so! My greatest hope is that what I do here is often fresh or a surprise.

Karen, yes, nature is harsh. It's fascinating what we do with it. And even more fascinating to find those things that are inevitable, despite what we do.

Walking Man, I think that's true. Even if we tried to stop it, it would break through in some form.

Catvibe, you sensed it in the first thought. Finding something within you that is shocking in its vulnerability.

Margaret, then it's inspired you in the right way, because it's those times when we curl up and become invisible, that we might brush shoulders with something we didn't quite know was there.

StrugglingWriter, this photo was taken two weeks ago, I think. I got some great shots, but wasn't ready to use them, because of blog content. We have some late crocus, but I think it's more daffodil time now.

Sarah, sorry you found it very sad. For me it wasn't about enemies or destruction. It was about the discomfort of laying down arms and letting the vulnerable part of you finally grow. Especially when the enemies are real.

Jennifer said...

Jason this (photo and words) reminded me of Anis Nin's "And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk to bloom.” Which then reminded me of the Indigo Girls' line: "I wrap my fear around me like a blanket,
I sailed my ship of safety till I sank it."

Excellent company to keep.

SzélsőFa said...

Winter was officially defeated and has gone to a faraway retreat. Now it's hissing from a (safe) distance.

SzélsőFa said...

I mean, this was what your poem told me.

Jamie Ford said...

Lovely. And the photo is so evocative...

jason evans said...

Jennifer, both of those comparisons are perfect! Thank you for that!!

Szelsofa, breaking through to a new time and life. :)

Jamie, thanks, my friend! I've been so stoked to see how well your novel is doing!! Congrats!!