Tag Archives: nature photography

In My Garden: Tulips 2022

18 Wednesday May 2022

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Here are the tulips, budded and full-blown,
their swoops and dips, their gloss and poses, the satin of their darks

Margaret Atwood, Dearly

A tulip doesn’t strive to impress anyone. It doesn’t struggle to be different than a rose. It doesn’t have to. It is different. And there’s room in the garden for every flower. 

Marianne Williamson

Which Way

19 Wednesday Jan 2022

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Sometimes the journey is more imporant than the destination…

Sometimes you have to forge your way ahead alone…
…and sometimes a friend will walk with you.
There may be lots of colour…
…or darkness ahead.
The path isn’t always clear…
…other times it’s wide open!
Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
So whether you are walking…uphill all the way…
…or riding in style…

…whichever way you are going, may it always lead you HOME.

This is my post for Cee Neuner’s Fun Foto Challenge: Which Way, part of the Which Way Challenge by Alive and Trekking.

His Name is Earl

08 Wednesday Sep 2021

Posted by in Foolishness, Photography

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His name is Earl.

He decided to hang around poolside when Big Guy and I went for his final swim. After posing for pics, we left him alone for a nap.

About 20 minutes later, I noticed Earl fighting for his life in the water. I grabbed the skimmer, fished him out and put him in the sun to dry off.

I’m not sure, but as we dried off and wished him farewell, I think Earl winked.

“You don’t have to be my friend. I’ll train you.”

-Unknown

Wilderness Wednesday: Evening Song

14 Wednesday Jul 2021

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Evening at the river. As the sun slowly sinks toward the horizon, it’s warm glows barely kisses the tops of the trees. The birds begin to settle, only a few singing nursery rhymes to their little ones tucked safely in their nests.

Below the bridge, hidden in the foliage, a bullfrog trumpets twice, and then falls silent.

Overhead, a few wispy clouds continue their journey east. The river continues it’s journey too, winding first south, then west, and winding again. It will thunder over the waterfall downstream, before winding its way toward a larger body of water far past the town. Like time, the river never ceases to slip away.

But here, though I know it is moving, it appears still. The surface is like glass, capturing a perfect moment with cloud and tree. As the surface darkens with the setting sun, the smaller plants floating on the surface begin to look more like stars, and the clouds, distant galaxies. I feel very small in a great big world.

I turn and head for home. It will soon be time to sing my own evening song, before I slip away.

Sometimes the night was beautiful
Sometimes the sky was so far away
Sometimes it seemed to stoop so close
You could touch it but your heart would break

Rich Mullins/Beaker, Sometimes By Step