And here, on either eye

Birch 1

Birch 2

The photographs were taken on March 11th.

(Posting title is from the poem The Liar by James Stephens.)

Completely crazy but not at all insane

Birch

The photograph was taken on December 30th.

The weather forecast promises colder weather for tomorrow, -6 °C in the morning. The roads are wet because of melting snow and ice, and thus it can be quite slippery tomorrow.

(Posting title is from the poem Me by Frederick Seidel.)

With charity being made a deadly sin

Birches

Lake

Strawberry

The photographs were taken on July 2nd while riding the bicycle to Nuuksio National Park and back via Pirttimäki.

This morning I rode the bicycle for 1 1/2 hours, exploring the small roads near Seutula.

(Posting title is from the poem Blockbusters by Ian Duhig.)

Open up your eyes now

Birch 1

Birch 2

Today I walked for 2 hours 15 minutes in Meiko, visiting six different lakes. There was still some snow, but mostly it was easy to walk, as the ground is still somewhat frozen. Swamps were flooded because of the melting snow.

I imported the photographs taken today to the new iMac using the built-in memory card reader. Now I'm starting to realize how fast the new computer is, importing the photographs happened in a fraction of the time needed on the old one.

While walking, I recorded a 4K video with the LX100, and imported it to the iMac. On the old iMac there was no hope of playing a 4K video, on the new one it didn't even challenge the computer.

The photographs were taken in Luukki on February 8th and 28th. I have taken photographs of this particular birch several times, as it is of somewhat unique appearance, due to witch's brooms, but now it has been cut down.

(Posting title is from the song Witches Brew by Katy B.)

As if sliding down the green, scuffed face

Larvae 1

Larvae 2

There were plenty of these little green things at Kilpisjärvi, eating birches and other green stuff. Some years the Epirrita autumnata moth larvae have defoliated square kilometers of birch forests in the fells of Lapland.

(Posting title is from the poem Möbius by David Gewanter.)

Where humbler men found but a mess of sparks

Blur 1

Blur 2

Blur 3

Blur 4

Last week I transported my bicycle home by car, to get the rear wheel repaired. I hadn't used the car much, and it got somewhat dirty, the sap from a big birch tree falling on the car, and pollen and other dirt getting stuck to the sticky sap. This happens always in late spring, but this time there was more of the sap and dirt than usually. Here is what the camera saw when focusing on the dirt in the windows. And then I had the car washed.

(Posting title is from the poem Five Visions of Captain Cook by Kenneth Slessor.)

The sweet smell holds the strongest memory

Birch 1

Birch 2

Birch 3

Birch 4

On Wednesday I went with my youngest daughter to Luukki lake, as she wanted to try swimming for the first time this year. There is a big field of grass by the lake, and while going to the lake we saw some people in a very strange-looking activity.

There were half a dozen people of which half were dragging a meter-long wooden stick along the ground, in a squating position, very very slowly. This looked like a strange kind of tai chi. There were 30 cm tall markers with colored ribbons here and there, 20-30 meters from each other, and the squatters were slowly moving between these markers.

I heard someone say something like "Now I feel it will be found", and thought that perhaps this was some occult thing, such as geomancy, looking for underground water for placing a well.

When we returned it turned out that there were a couple of dogs sniffing the ground between the markers. So, this was exercise for dogs - search dogs or tracking dogs - and the people with sticks had been marking the ground for the dogs to follow the scent. Oh well, my original thoughts were much more exciting!

These photographs were taken last weekend. Birch! Birch! Birch! Birch! I do love these trees.

(Posting title is from the poem Smoke in Our Hair by Ofelia Zepeda.)

If you wish to remember your dream

Birch 1

Birch 2

Birch 3

Birch 4

Here are photographs taken on Saturday, while we returned from the highest point in Nuuksio wilderness. Birch! Birch! Birch! Birch!

(Posting title is from the poem Travel Papers by Carolyn Forché.)

The birch tree in winter

Street

Lake

Birches

Fence

Two weeks ago I used a line from Robert Frost's poem Birches as the title of a posting: "I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree". And even though this poem is not too difficult to read, I wanted to look at a Finnish translation.

Finally I found a translation in a collection of American poems edited (and translated) by Ville Repo. And indeed, my impression of this poem was strengthened when reading the translation; it is powerful and deep. But it is also different, an interpretation.

For those who know Finnish, here is the end of the poem, translated by Ville Repo, from the book Tähtien väri: valikoima amerikkalaista runoutta (WSOY, 1992; ISBN 951018408X):

Tahtoisin nousta mustat oksat latvaan
valkoisen rungon, kohti taivasta,
kunnes puu taipuisi ja minut
laskisi maahan. Mennä, palata
tekisi hyvää. Aivan kelvollinen
olisi osa koivujen keinuttajan.

What I wonder is - compared to the difference in reading a poem in various languages - how much difference is there how we look at photographs? Has language anything to do with it?