ON A COLD NOVEMBER DAY at the Church O The Pines, as ice skins over the shallow places and errant snowflakes dance across the deck, the time has arrived. Time to bring the little bonsai trees into their winter home, the small greenhouse in the old carriage-house garage. They look happy there and I will enjoy them through the long,
STILLNESS. Calm. Poise. Balance. Growth. Beauty. All are a part of the life and art of a bonsai. All are important in the art of any life. All are good to remember. Perhaps that is why a small and beautiful tree may speak to us. Of tree things. Of human things.
BIG BROTHER and Little Brother. Welcoming a new member of the bonsai family…
YES, they are still out, my little trees. Thriving, surviving, adapting, hardening their roots for the season to come. They will survive that season as well. And spring will come, with new light, new life, and new growth.
THERE ARE A NUMBER of goals or concepts in the world of bonsai. Beauty. Grace. Symmetry. The interweaving between between nature and living art. And things that are harder to describe. Part of it is recreating in miniature the effect of a large, old tree. Weathered and bent, perhaps, but still strong. I rescued this little juniper, now about 10”
THIS LITTLE BONSAI—a Chinese Elm—has been struggling through an attack by a nasty fungus, lasting all summer. It’s lost a lot of leaves and some vigor, and I regularly tend it and treat with fungicides. It is hanging in there and new growth is appearing. Sometimes—just like our people and our pets—our plant and tree friends need extra care and
OF A WARM summer evening, Simon the elder cat takes his ease on the deck—overlooking bonsais and petunias and even allowing me to rest for a spell in my grandad’s Adirondack chair. While the Buddha sits in the light of understanding among sheltering trees, and ponders the infinities.
GOOD BONSAI MORNING. Of all my little trees, this one stands out in a special way. A juniper trained in the ‘cascading’ style, it flows like a green waterfall. It reminds me of the beautiful little trees we find in the Canoe Country and all over the Canadian Shield, growing from rocky shorelines and cliff faces, often from the smallest
AFTER A WEEK of travels and adventures, it is a very bonsai morning here at the Church O The Pines cabin. And I am enjoying a few quiet moments with this little favorite. (Well, they’re all favorites). This one happens to be a white cedar, very similar to the beautiful trees we see along the rocky shores in northern Minnesota
ON THESE cold January days, slaving away in the Writing Porch, sometimes one needs a little company. A Forest Kitten perhaps, curled up by the computer. Some smiling orchids in the corner. Or maybe a little tree, a recent rescue, just to watch over thiings and say, “All is well. Roots, rocks, green and living boughs… such things abide, whatever