I had stopped by a roadside to shoot a barn during sunset. This polite man said “excuse me” as he ran by. Little did he know, he became a far more interesting subject than my barn.
Hope everyone runs into a beautiful week.
Have a great weekend.
Flowers of different varieties bloom throughout the warmer seasons here, present in one form or another from late winter of one year to early winter of the next. The earth literally comes alive with colors during those inbetween months.
Having moved to this particular home only one year ago this month, I am still familiarizing myself with what had been planted by the previous owners. I try to capture one photo of everything and make note of where it is (so I do not inadvertently dig it up as I re-landscape).
I think this is a Siberian Iris. Maybe. This was actually something I dug up while it was dormant last year and re-planted elsewhere to see what would appear. I was pleasantly surprised. Too lazy and worn to wander far from home tonight, I opted to walk around and snap a few shots.
It rained most of the day here. I took these during a short break in the showers. The irises, which stood tall and proud this morning, leaned forward tonight, heavy with the extra weight of the rain. Drooping. Yes, depressed. (Anthropomorphism is the attribution of human characteristics to non-living or non-human things. I figured if I could spell it correctly, I was allowed to do it.)
Its funny how things strike you in a certain way when you are in a certain frame of mind. Had I still been fresh in the week, I might have looked at this and thought, “Water! Essential for life!”
Nope, not today. Struggling a tad, drooping a bit. Thank goodness the sun sets and then rises again (if we are lucky), allowing us a fresh start every day.
What are you growing in your garden this year? Herbs? Flowers? Big, juicy beefsteak tomatoes?
Gardening is a pesky passion of mine. I’m particularly fond of flowers and herbs, but I also enjoy a nice, hearty vegetable garden. I term my passion as “pesky” because, as any gardener knows, growth requires a lot of attention and maintenance. Without the requisite water and sunshine, or the appropriate soil nutrients, your growth is minimal if not completely disappointing. On the other hand, too much water, too many nutrients, yield the same disappointing results.
A well grown garden requires a plethora of things you won’t find among your normal gardening tools of spades and pruning sheers. Things like balance, nurturance, and patience. A well grown plot requires frequent and tedious weeding, so the desired plantings have ample opportunity to grow voraciously in their soil, without interference.
There is a child-like wonderment I experience each year, when a vegetable appears on a plant one dew covered morning, when just one evening before it did not exist. A tulip appears, like a phoenix rising, from ground just previously blanketed in snow. Best of all, I love picking a plump, tasty cucumber directly off the vine, salt shaker in hand, and eating it right there, in the garden, dirt and all.
In the end, a garden (at least in this part of the country) is tucked in and bedded down for a season of rest and dormancy, allowing the land to recover for the new growing season to come.
Ah, the cycle of life.
I hope whatever you grow in the upcoming season, be it a lovely bouquet of wildflowers, a newly born infant, or your very own soul, you do with love and patience. Your hard work will surely yield you a harvest of incredible joy.
The shores of Lake Erie draw young and old, all day long. As a younger woman, I enjoyed basking in the heat of the sun on a sunny summer day. Nowadays, I prefer to keep my visits to early mornings and early evenings, when the temperatures are moderate and the crowds much thinner.
This family was chatting away to the silent tune of the setting sun, enjoying the last few minutes of daylight and the first few minutes of evening.
I took an early morning jaunt to the park, in hopes of clearing my head and finding something to photograph. Not necessarily in that order. I saw this frame in one of my favorite park areas. So very apropos.
One modern day spiritual philospher tells us, “Wherever you go, there you are”, reminding us that, to fully enjoy life, one must stay in the present. This is conflictual for me. Sometimes I do not like my present. Why would I want to stay there? I seek to escape. But those far wiser than me speak the truth. We really are the creator of our own destinies–not that we are necessarily in control of our surroundings or situations; rather, we have the most control over how we accept and work through both the good and not-so-good moments of our lives. Vowing that we will make the best of situations and, if need be, summon the courage to change them, is the essence of serenity.
I’m still a work in progress.
When I write, I pick a picture, post it, and let the picture tell me what I should write about. I wait for it to speak to me, to spark a memory or a feeling. And then I write. Sometimes I write exactly about the thought that entered my mind. Sometimes, what I start out writing is totally different than what exits my fingers as I type. Its oddly therapeutic and sometimes spooky. The writing is often a vent for feelings steaming right beneath my surface that I am not necessarily cognizant of.
Of late, I am converting many of my photos to black and white. Not sure why. I can tell you that the colors feel…uncomfortable. Too bright, too much. I need the simplicity? I need things to be in black and white? Things are, perhaps, too complicated in my life right now, having just enjoyed a short retreat from the hectic world of my work. Now, I’ve plunged back in, completely immersed in chaos.
No, I definitely like the simplicity.
“Ethel Merman”, a famed singer for you younger types, was the first image in my mind when searching my little brain for a title. Ethel would belt out a tune like no other. She has long passed, but I can still hear her voice from many a musical, reverberating in my head. The form and shape of the iris reminded me, I suppose, of an open mouth, waiting to belt something out. Shouting, perhaps, into the black and white abyss to its left.
Welcome to my therapy session.
Please stay tuned…