Traveller’s Rest

When you are tired of the long road and the open sky,
I wish it may be my door that you’re passing by:
I wish it may be my hearth where you will sit down
And tell your tales of the land and sea and the strange far town.
Oh, come you in from eastward or come you in from the west,
Here’s good cheer to greet you and welcome of the best:
Oh, come with your pockets full or come you home poor,
Here’s a place by the fireside and an open door.
You’ll tell me where you were since, and the things you’ve seen
Up and down the wide world where so long you’ve been,-
All the time that I’ve been here and you far away,-
And then awhile be silent, as good friends may.
And then awhile listen to the wind and rain,
Moaning in the chimney-breast, beating at the pane,-
Dark and cold outside, and the stormy skies,
And you sitting down here with the firelight in your eyes.

(Cicely Fox-Smith)

Detail of Nature

Detail of Nature

Detail of Nature

Detail of Nature

The Call from Edgewood Park

Edgewood Park is just a regular urban park in the city of New Haven in Connecticut. There’s nothing very special about it. There’s a small river that runs underneath the bridge, where a busy street stretches above it. The place is always quite. Once in a while some people jogged or walked about there. There’s a football field nearby that’s shrouded with trees. When a game or practice was happening, you could hear the cheer and the scuffles of people running around the field. If you came to the park in the morning or in the afternoon when busy hours were subsided, you could hear nothing but the birds singing and the wind. I love Edgewood Park the most when it’s Fall. When the leaves change into sea of yellow, and the sunlight makes them so radiant and breathtaking. Now, that Fall is here again, I can’t wait to visit the park and mesmerize by its spectacular scenery.

(Photos from last Fall)

Autumn Leaves & Water

Got Trapped

Yellow Leaves & Blue Sky


I must get out to the woods again, to the whispering tree and the birds awing,
Away from the haunts of pale-faced men, to the spaces wide where strength is king;
I must get out where the skies are blue and the air is clean and the rest is sweet,
Out where there’s never a task to do or a goal to reach or a foe to meet.
I must get out on the trails once more that wind through shadowy haunts and cool,
Away from the presence of wall and door, and see myself in a crystal pool;
I must get out with the silent things, where neither laughter nor hate is heard,
Where malice never the humblest stings and no one is hurt by a spoken word.
Oh, I’ve heard the call of the tall white pine, and heard the call of the running brook,
I’m tired of the tasks which each day are mine, I’m weary of reading a printed book,
I want to get out of the din and strife, the clank and clamor of turning wheel,
And walk for a day where life is life, and the joys are true and the pictures real.

Reflection of Autumn

Autumn in Edgewood Park

Autumn Leaves & Water

The Road Goes Ever On and On

A dedication to a man whose languages were among the most beautiful languages in the world. The words that are intangible, but true in their forms in imaginations.

“The Road goes ever on and on
     Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
     And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
     Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
     And whither then? I cannot say.”

J.R.R. Tolkien (Chapter 3: Three is Company, The Fellowship of The Ring)


Bridge & the Woods

Every Tree Gives Answer to Some Different Mood

TIME is never wasted listening to the trees;
If to heaven so grandly we arose as these,
Holding toward each other half their kindly grace,
Haply we were worthier of our human place.
Bending down to meet you on the hillside path,
Birch and oak and maple each his welcome hath;
Each his own fine cadence, his familiar word,
By the ear accustomed, always plainly heard.
Every tree gives answer to some different mood,
This one helps you climbing; that for the rest is good;
Beckoning friends, companions, sentinels they are;
Good to live and die with, good to greet afar.

THE TREES – Lucy Larcom

“Every tree gives answer to some different mood”


Autumn Yellow

Fall Has Crocus Too

We live near a church and the rectory that has a wonderful garden. There’s a giant Magnolia tree on its front yard, while during spring, summer and fall, the flowers that bloom in there ranging from Snowdrops, Hydrangea, Shasta Daisy,Hyacinth, Roses etc. It is truly a sight to be hold. A couple of weeks ago I spotted some purple flowers bloomed between Shasta Daisies. I realized they were some Fall Crocuses. It was the first time I saw them up close, though I’ve heard of their poisonous effect for  sometimes.

It is autumn; not without
But within me is the cold.
Youth and spring are all about;
It is I that have grown old.
Birds are darting through the air,
Singing, building without rest;
Life is stirring everywhere,
Save within my lonely breast.
There is silence: the dead leaves
Fall and rustle and are still;
Beats no flail upon the sheaves,
Comes no murmur from the mill.

– AUTUMN WITHIN by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow –

Say It With Flowers: Calla Lily

I promise my self that there would be some flowers freshening up our dinning table. Though mostly I would forget to buy some when I did grocery shopping, usually it’s because I didn’t find any interesting flowers that suited my mood. But for the past three weeks now, I’ve started wonderful habit of putting some flowers on the dinning table. The first week began with five Calla Lilies that I bought from my kids’ favorite market and my girly mood chose the pink ones. I set up the Lilies on a blue-bottle that I got from a tag sale for $1. They perked up our table and sure was my day.






October Rain

October Rain, a photo series when I let my self soaked in the foggy and misty morning.


A bleak wind is riding on the waves,
And the shadowy foam is hurled;
And the gray rains are on the hills
And a gray dusk is over the world.
And bleak moods and shadowy moods
Move like the moods of the sea,
And mist, like gray unspoken thoughts,
Is looking strangely at me.
And I am lost in grayness,
My dreams are still and furled,
For the gray rains are on the hills
And a gray dusk is over the world.

GRAYOscar Williams

Autumn Leaves