a rose is a rose is a rose

Stereotypical, perhaps, as far as photographic subjects go. But so lovely I simply could not resist!

things of beauty

While snapping this shot of Sugar I had a chance to chat with a friend, who also happens to be her owner :-) Our conversation has left me with a bit of realization-in-progress: I have been inordinately needy for beauty lately. And when I am drawn to, am surrounding myself obsessively with, all things beautiful, there is generally an underlying reason for it.
And I am terribly sensitive to the emotions of those around me. So this evening, as I saw the distress in Lynn's eyes as she spoke of her fears, it occurred to me that the flowers and photos that I give are a way of fighting such fears.
Our world is a frightful one, and these days are full of fears: financial, political, relational . . . people are afraid. And the fear I see in others frightens me.
My way of fighting my own fears is by doing the only thing I can think of to alleviate it in others. Beauty soothes me. It also captures my attention, in that I have found in myself a tendency to notice details that not everyone sees. So recently I have been giving small gifts of beauty to those around me. As one with little influence, power, or wealth, all I have to give is that which calms my own fears. It leaves me vulnerable to others, easily wounded by insensitivities, but I do not mind. The deep joy of seeing the rare moments when my small gifts can mean something to another far outweighs the pain of when they do not.
So here is another glimpse of one of those small beauties :-)

just one

The gardenia bush my mother planted is magical: everything, I suppose, that her green thumb touches, is similarly blessed. This particular shrub's magic manifests itself in the way it habitually blooms as it should, in late summer . . . and then continues to sprout surprise buds at "random" times of the year. It seems to me that each of these surprises comes at some significant time, or day, of the year: so that I benefit from the brightened soul and lifted spirits that a solitary bloom invariably delivers. This particular one now occupies the space reserved on my piano for those of its kind, floating in the glass globe similarly designated :-)

modeling sugar

Once the day's duties were done and my lawn-mowing completed, I had a mission this evening: a quite simply one, really . . . a photo shoot with Sugar. As you can see, by her "come hither" expression, she's quite the natural!

once-solid rock

This is the sight that greeted me this morning, causing me to gasp and lift my hand to my mouth in one of those involuntary reactions. At some point over the night, it seems, a vehicle careened into our street's marking stone pillar, leaving pieces of the car strewn about the road, and leaving this disaster of what used to be a solid block of stone. Having seen this marker without thinking about it for some 18 years now, it is a strange thing to see it so suddenly demolished . . . a sad and somewhat frightening reminder of the inherently ephemeral nature of so many things, both those inconsequential and those of great significance, in our lives.

a family treasure

So maybe he's all growed up [as we say down here in the heartland ;-)] what with a sweet new wife and countless life accomplishments in his young man's lifetime . . . but he's still my baby brother. And consequently my big sister heart was proudly warmed just now at the discovery of this school assignment from many many years ago:

I am thankful for my home. I am thankful for my grandparents because they love my. I am thankful brother and sister.

Coincidentally, I claim the liberty of assuming that he was temporarily grammatically challenged, rather than the less appealing alternative that he was only thankful for one of us "sister"s . . .

when the clock strikes 12

As I walked in to visit a neighbor, I asked her about the "cinderella shoes" near the front door entry. Perplexed, she asked what I meant and, when I pointed them out to her, Lyn laughed. "Looks like my daughter came over last night . . ." Came and went, leaving only this picturesque trace.

subjective objects

Sometimes I am caught off guard, stopped in my tracks by rather ordinary objects that are, for whatever reason, strikingly beautiful to me. In this case, a first venture into a friend's backyard made me return later in the evening, camera in hand, so that I could capture this colorful trio.