Turnbull National Wildlife Refuge, Resplendent in Greens and Yellows

I often think of Great Nature in terms of shapes of things: a towering mountain, a majestic canyon, a roaring ocean. Yesterday walking in nearby Turnbull National Wildlife Refuge I was struck by the colors of things, especially the grasses and flowers.  Every blade of grass said, "Look at me. Just look at me. Did you ever see anything so green before."

And the flowers chimed in, "Look at us. Just look at us. Have you ever seen a richer yellow."

I was reminded of Gerard Manley Hopkins  (1844-1889) his poem, "Pied Beauty," which I memorized long ago while jogging and recited often to my twins when they were about four-years-old.  Here is the poem:

GLORY be to God for dappled things—  
  For skies of couple-colour as a brindled cow;    
    For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;  
  Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;   
     And all trades, their gear and tackle and trim. 

All things counter, original, spare, strange;  
  Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)    
    With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:      
                    Praise him.

Reciting the poem at home, I would pause at paired prompts, such as "sweet" and my neophyte poets would chime in "sour."
Of course I began this post on Turnbull with fewer colors than Hopkins celebrated in "Pied Beauty," but  I think the spirit is the same. 
View the slide show below, and judge for yoursel

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