salvia morning; marigold afternoon. A day at work

Morning sun streaming though Salvia blooms at my school

The air was warm. The soil moist. The sun was low. This was the setting as I walked onto campus this morning. The salvia and yarrow in the garden area that surrounds our flag pole was teeming with life. I booted up my computer and went to photograph the moment.

As the day ended, I left my classroom and as I have for the past several months, I walked by a diverse gathering of marigolds. I sat on the sidewalk and caught that moment as well.

Marigolds in the afternoon. The work day was over.

 

 

Making the best of the present moment

Strawflowers in one of my horticulture gardens

Photographs are a moment in time, but there are times when I feel my camera and my skills have failed that moment. In the past these photographs would be deleted, but now I play.

My toy is an app called Aviary. I often use it on even my best images to adjust the sharpness or brightness. But a less than favored photograph can be transformed into a new take on that moment in time. Just as my mind (at its best) can seek joy and hope in a failed moment, Aviary can do the same with a not to be deleted moment.

 

 

A Labor of Love: an international octet of quilters

Tulips by Yemina Lavan of Modlin, Israel

Day three of my Labor Day celebration of quilters in honor of my grandmother continues. Enjoy the trip around the world.

It Started As A Doodle by Roz Rossiter of the UK

Shattered Face Quilt by Kathryn Harmer Fox of South Africa

Taras Garden by Valerie Giles of Australia

Ferns within the Grids by Margie Davidson of Canada

Chinese Coins by Petra Niermann of Germany

Lucky 4-Leaf by Anne Jolly of New Zealand

A Stormy Night At Sea by Maria Nunez of USA

 

Beauty in the garden 2 ~> placing perennials

Our garden has witnessed my care on 27 of the last 33 days. It has been transformed, but as talked about in part 1, transformations take perseverance. I have pulled many more weeds, but I have taken the next step and have placed 30 perennials into the ground. I wanted some fall color in the front yard so this aster has been placed there. I am not much for garden design. I do know to plant tall things behind short things. But what I do is pick up a plant. Read the info on the tag. Find a place. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Things will die. Things will thrive. The garden will unfold. It will provide beauty.

The sunflowers are looking rather dead, but not completely and goldfinches have been around so these will stick around and provide comfort to the birds and my spirit this winter.

The dahlia,that returns each year, needed to be raised up from the ground upon which it had toppled. Blooms were broken off. This bud bloomed inside our kitchen. Pale in color but not beauty.

The first batch of perremnials came by way of Bowman's Hill over by New Hope. A place I had desired to see for decades and their fall plant sale got us there. This is how they looked on our porch.

So it was time to have my photo taken. New glasses, a transformed garden, a weeded patio/walkway. Now to keep those perennials alive. Who knows, with luck they will join this rosemary as plants that have thrived.

 

Mystical Mondays: entering the world of Hafiz

a striped rose that blesses my
unfolding years

How have you been encouraged?  

Can you imagine not being called to bloom with the roses?

Do you know I hope to see it?

How Did The Rose?

How

did the Rose

ever open its heart

and give to this world all of its beauty?

It felt the encouragement of light against its being,

otherwise we all remain too

frightened.

by Hafiz

from:

Translations by Daniel Ladinsky

I'll be seeing you... a sentimental post

The two e-mails that greeted me at work were not unexpected, pancreatic cancer will finally take the last breath of those we care for, and services follow...

My friend lasted three times as long as he was given, but in the end he was placed in a comfortable chair and as his family read psalms and encouraged him to let go... he took that last breath. I am in awe of this journey, this end.

Without Ipod to provide jazz, I grab the one CD that is in the car. Finally the last track arrives and the music reaches into my heart... Regina Carter, thank you.

I'll be seeing you, my friend, as I stand by the red and the yellow day lilies you loved so much. The ones I divided to thin out of your wife's garden soon after I heard the news. I transported them from your garden to the school and then students, who cared, placed them into the ground. I will let everyone know to stop by next summer when they bloom. I will remember you.

Last night I read about flowers at graves. The author wondered why.

I say this... they remind us of the beauty in those who have left us.


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