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Where do I get my inspiration? Sometimes it is a memory of place or natural element, usually nudged forward by a beautiful stone in my collection, or a glimpse of a piece of history such as a fragment of 100 year old wallpaper or a detail on antique furnishings.

This poem rattled around in my head until I had to put it on paper. It evolved as my design for the “Unfurl” series began to take shape, the first piece shown here.

In the winter, when my lush gardens are sleeping beneath hard ground, inspiration takes more work and imagination for me. As I held this beautiful piece of rutilated prehnite with its translucent green crossed with black lines of tourmaline, I imagined the tiny fiddleheads, tightly furled and waiting for spring to break.

The poem is about growth, years past feeding the future, and cycles of life. Not all collections have a poem, but this one did.

Unfurling Fiddleheads, 2015. Private Collection


In this mossy bower Winter’s dark, dank leaves lie thick Leaching last summer’s glory Into loamy earth below

Skeletal trees with limbs entwined above Stand silent sentry As days lengthen and breezes warm To coax those sleeping to wake

Tenderly and tightly encircled unto themselves The fern fronds awake and slowly rise To lift fallen leaves, as their roots Sup on memories of years past

Beneath dappled sunshine The fiddleheads emerge glorious Their spiraled stories and emotions Gently unfurl to a new season

©Elizabeth Hay

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