Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Winter wan



Where did the color go?

I too feel washed something other than clean, not rinsed and wrung either. Just a winter wan. 



If I kick about my ankles, time is not spooled like silk. Rather it is turning around me as a cotton batt tornado.

Silent and the birds have stopped singing as if I were in the eye.


Luckily there is touch. And texture. 


Running my fingers over a bit of bark or a gold-rimmed coffee cup heats the tips with sparks of blue, green, gold...


I lean towards the warmth and am pulled forward into the ticking minutes...


...and further down the wide if barren path...


...slow as breathing towards something resembling Spring. 







45 comments:

Jane and Lance Hattatt said...

Hello Heather:
There is something wonderfully poetic about these words where you capture that sense of isolation of self within a landscape devoid of warmth and colour which is, of course, the very essence of winter at its heart.

Judith A. Ross said...

Breathtaking.

BigLittleWolf said...

Oh, this is pure sensuality, Heather. Your words alone would do it. The stunning photos are frosting on this luscious cake.

Suze said...

'If I kick about my ankles, time is not spooled like silk. Rather it is turning around me as a cotton batt tornado.'

Yes!

Btw, you remind me of her.

Lost in Provence said...

Thank you my friends. And luckily within our hearts we have something far gentler than winter.

Lost in Provence said...

Merci, Judith, for this and for your beautiful post today.

Lost in Provence said...

Such a wonderful compliment coming from you. One who knows a thing or three about sensuality!

Lost in Provence said...

I love that Suze. Thank you for the insta-smile.

Francine Gardner said...

Beautiful post... I long for the greys of provence

Lost in Provence said...

Merci, Francine. I remember that you love winter here. Are you coming to the deballages next month?

Loree said...

We are lucky that winters here are a bit more colourful. I enjoyed your beautiful, poetic words about how you feel during this season. I understand it can get a bit drab in some countries.

juliastoepel said...

beautiful pictures, beautiful music.
merci*

Glamour Drops said...

Luckily there is beauty. In your words but also in the drabness of winter - for without it, how would we know to appreciate quiet things? xx

teamgloria said...

dearest heather

we checked out all the los angeles links that you sent us in habitually chic and remembered Most of them (but the stationery store is a Most Definite Find!)

love the solitude and (almost) sadness of winter in your photography and then SUDDENLY that picture on the crest of the hill - oh! soaring - like an eagle - gorgeous.

waving from here. to there. bisous.

_tg xx

Rowan said...

Heather, love the poetry in your words, the solitude and quiet in your images! Where are they taken? Cheers,
Deborah - Melbourne.

helen tilston said...

Hello Heather

I enjoyed listening to Skinny Love. My first time hearing this song. The word "wan" so perfectly describes this stage in winter in your corner of the world.
Sending you flashes of sunshine

Helenx

I Dream Of said...

Heather, your worlds prove that even in the darkest of winter, there is still so much beauty to be found. Today I felt like I was living inside gray cotton candy...or soggy dryer lint. The clouds, the rain, the mist. Winter in the Pacific Northwest at it's blah-ist. But still. We march toward spring. And hope. And look for color and sunshine in hidden places. XOXO

Lorrie said...

Beautiful words, and beautiful landscapes, even when greyed. The lack of colour points one to the architecture of trees and bare hills.

Amelia said...

Heather, I won't pretend that I always get the crux of your poetic and lyrical writings. Sometimes those poetic symbolism are over my head but I love reading them anyway. And when I do catch on to the meanings, I'm simply bowled over by their beauty. March is the winter wan month in my neck of the woods. That's when the pure white snow turn to grey or "something other than clean". In the meantime, we've been having snowstorms after the other and the whole scene as far as the eyes can see is pure white. Thanks for the introduction to Birdy - Skinny Love. Never heard it before.

XO

Lost in Provence said...

A little gray, yes Loree--but we are so fortunate in Provence to have the blue, blue sky most of the year.

Lost in Provence said...

Lovely to have you here, Julia.
*sending a tg style wave to Berlin*

Lost in Provence said...

I always love your perspective, Virginia. "Quiet things"...it is so very, very true.
Bisous,
h

Lost in Provence said...

Do you see the castle ruins on the hill in the background? That is no movie set, my dear tg but it certainly is epic.
*Sending bisous, Mwah style*

Lost in Provence said...

Hello Deborah! Oh dear, I never wrote you back to your long email. Sigh. These photos were taken in the hills behind Les Baux de Provence. There is a dirt track that is excellent for walking or for those with a big truck! Merci for your kindness.

Lost in Provence said...

Oooh, I will soak them up so gladly--although the sun is breaking through today!
And isn't she talented? She was only 16 when she recorded that song. Isn't that something?
xo,
h

Janey and Co. said...

I bet you are one that welcomes the coming of Spring...Thanks for sharing the beauty of winter. loved the song!

Jeanne Henriques said...

Heather..I love the rhythm of your photos...I can feel the winter wan and am catching a glimpse of spring..possible in January? So enjoying the sound of Birdy...I have shared it on Facebook.. looking forward to the day when we can talk on FB..hint, hint!
Watching Out of Africa and thinking of you...I know you would be enjoying it too...
Jeanne xx

Nancy Lobalbo said...

What beautiful winter landscapes. How I wish I were there! What I really loved was the car wash from saturday's post viewed to the music from the Jan. 29 post. Stunning. And, no, you aren't crazy (-:

Amelia said...

Me too, I love your pictures from the carwash. Reminds me of below deck in a boat during a blowing gale, and foams made by the waves on the portholes...or taking pictures from inside the banzai pipeline...:)

xx

Lost in Provence said...

Yes, Jeanne, we have to! In our teacups, in the music we are listening to, all of it. I know that you do too. Your beautiful drawings always radiate hope--one that is catching and impossible not to be touched by...
Bisous,
h

Lost in Provence said...

Yay! Thank you Lorrie, that is exactly what I was thinking about when I took them!!!

Lost in Provence said...

Wonderful Amelia, even I don't even know what I am talking about 100% when I get in such moods. I just put the ingredients in the blender and see what comes out. :) If anything, this blog has been a huge step forward for me in that I let myself do that kind of writing from time to time without, hopefully, judging it too much. A big difference from writing for the French press where it all needs to flow like a logical river.

How I would love to see your pure white snow as far as the eye can see!!! Wow.
And yes, Birdy is a young artist with a lot of heart. It will be neat to see where she goes...
xo,
h

Lost in Provence said...

You know I was never so interested in spring before I lived in Provence but oh my is it something to look forward to!

Lost in Provence said...

Out of Africa? Le grand sigh. And then a second one. And then a moment of silence in respect. :)

Jeanne, I never take for granted your amazingness. Thank you so much for mentioning rhythm. I give a lot of thought to the order of what photos I publish here, even it is basic, unavoidable after so many years of watching how Remi thinks of a story. I hope that doesn't sound pretentious! Eeee...!!!

FB. Hmmm. I actually do have an account that I cancelled, brought back to see something and now don't touch. But you tempt me mightily, you do...although in all honestly, I would rather talk to you face to face!

And I think that I put a Birdy song on my list for Music for Mango House! Her voice just goes right to my heart. I listened to "Skinny Love" over and over non-stop while writing this post.

Hoping that you are wrapped not in a cotton batt tornado but rather the buzz-buzz of your wonderful adventure in Saigon,
Gros Bisous,
h

Lost in Provence said...

Oooh Nancy, that is such a great idea! I love it!!! And thank you...

Lost in Provence said...

Now how can you say what you did in your previous comment, Amelia? You are just as poetic as I am! And now you have me very curious about what you were doing in the banzai pipeline...

Amelia said...

LOL...hippie days, flower power and a volkwagen bus. In a different time and a lifetime ago, I used to live about 20 miles away from the pipeline. One of those specks among the crowds watching the tournaments. Great memories though.

Lost in Provence said...

Heeheehee. I love trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle of who you are Amelia. You never cease to surprise me.

Amelia said...

Promise...am not that interesting...:)

Lost in Provence said...

I doubt it...

Jackie and Joel Smith said...

Oh Heather only you could turn the grayest of days into beautiful poetry! I sit here in the middle of the Pacific surrounded by striking tropical colors and find myself wistfully thinking of taking a slow stroll down that delightfully empty road you tempted me with in your photos. . .

Lost in Provence said...

Ah, thank you Jackie. The grass is always greener but I think you are too kind!

Lulu said...

No matter what the season, there is always something beautiful to see. Sometimes the challenge is seeing!

Lost in Provence said...

I couldn't agree with you more, Lulu. We have to keep the peepers open!
PS. What a lovely profile pic.

Chris said...

Poetry, Heather, the most beautiful poetry...

xoxo, Chris