“The Grasshopper, the Grasshopper,
I will explain to you–
He is the Brownies’ racehorse,
The Fairies’ Kangaroo.” – Vachel Lindsay
To see more photos Beneath My Feet, click here.
The Drive-In – small town family entertainment. I have happy memories of playing on the playground equipment at the foot of the board, while swatting mosquitoes and waiting for it to get dark enough to watch the first show. Then I’d crowd in the back seat and watch the movie through the space between my parents’ heads. The sound was tinny and the mosquitoes were bad, but when I drifted off to sleep during the second movie, I was happy…
Our Drive-In closed in the 80’s (with a brief operating period in the 90’s). I took a walk there in April with my Dad and 2 boys, and everything was still there. Even the playground equipment.
To see more “broken” photos, click here.
“If the sight of the blue skies fills you with joy, if a blade of grass springing up in the fields has power to move you, if the simple things of nature have a message that you understand, rejoice, for your soul is alive.” – Eleonora Duse
To see more Force of Nature photos, click here.
Where a love of natural beauty has been cultivated, all nature becomes a stupendous gallery, as much superior in form and in coloring to the choicest collections of human art, as the heavens are broader and loftier than the Louvre or the Vatican.
– HORACE MANN, A Few Thoughts for a Young Man
To see more Intricate photos, click here.
“You’ve got a voice and a song to sing.
Drink deep in the morning,
Drink deep in the morning,
See what the day will bring!” – Skillet, American Noise
The Weekly Photo Challenge was “The Early Bird”. To see other “Early Bird” photos, click here.
The pun in this week’s photo challenge is compliments of Michelle, who loves the color orange. The challenge was to create a collage of photos where orange is the dominant color, or the bold highlight. Here’s my collection:
To see more delicious, ORANGE photos, click here.
I dug into my Archives for this week’s photo…all the way back to 1999. The camera I used was my Dad’s point and shoot camera and I was on the trip of a lifetime with my Mom. I started saving for a trip to Europe when I was 8 years old. I saved my allowance and my birthday money. I saved the money from my babysitting jobs, and my first “real” job at the market.
In the Summer of 1998, Hubby commented that he’d really like to take a white water kayaking course…that simple comment started a conversation that led to me taking a 10 day bus trip through Italy, Switzerland, France and England with my Mom.
So while this photo may not be phenomenal, the fact that I took it is my reward for my years of sacrifice and savings!
To see more Reward photos from other photographers, click here.
Good news! Our week of quarantine is over! Being housebound made it difficult to tackle this past week’s challenge (that, and I had no energy). Sometimes the greater challenge is using what’s right under your nose!
To see more, click here.
So still. Resting gently on the starched, white bed sheets. Her hands, almost blue, the skin paper thin and translucent, barely stretched across bone and ligament. Her hands, finger tips once nicked by sewing needles deftly weaving stitches in colourful patchwork wonders to swathe a newborn or shroud an invalid. Her hands, once calloused, fingernails caked with mud, tending vegetables in a patchwork of soil, or coated with sugar and flour and butter, a patchwork of dishes served to family and neighbours. Her hands, red and chapped from washing soiled bedding and soothing fevered brows, gently caring for aging relatives and growing children. Her hands, scarred but strong, competently filling heavy responsibilities on a farm, in a home. Her hands, young and supple, stroking the hands of her beautiful babies, marvelling at their size, reaching to caress the hand of the man she loves. Her hands, small and smooth reaching to move the checker across the game board, reaching for her doll in the night. Her hands, so small, fingernails like little pearls, resting gently on the starched, white bed sheets. So still.
The assignment today was to write a poem about fingers in a prose format.