Inside looking out Many phases of the moon Her last loving hug
Locked in with her memories Grandma sheds a single tear
Time is most priceless possession to the elderly. So to treat them as if their time is “less than” or to prolong taking precious time away from loved ones is intolerably cruel. Instead of the elderly ”taking one for the team” let’s work together so that families can reunite and be whole again.
Wear a mask, socially distance, wash your hands. Let’s beat this thing before it is too late for your loved ones.
Where there was once a parking lot
An environmental education building
Now stands surrounded by a mass of water
As an ironic reminder
That everything is connected
and both actions and non-actions have consequences
Denial doesn’t change facts
Drowning in ignorance and greed
Sea level rising
The naturalist shack
Returns to nature
In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenges #221: Mass and #222: Connections
A uniting force
Keeping mewlings safe and sound Neighborhood mothers
While I was lucky to have been raised by an incredible mother, I was also privileged to have grown up in a neighborhood of warrior mothers. I had a sense of a sound safety net. That I would never go hungry. My skinned knee would be immediately doused in Bactine in front of whichever house I crashed my bike. A snow day meant making the rounds of homes for hot chocolate in between hours of sledding or skating. Some mother was always looking out for me -or relaying inappropriate behavior if warranted. Born during the depression, that generation of mothers had a rough childhood so they made sure we didn’t. Almost all the warrior mothers of my childhood are gone now as that generation fades into fond memories.
In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge: Mothers.
Piquant petals Pierced through an ardent needle Thrust into heavens
I love the dichotomy between these two wondrous expressions of art. The cold straight steel of the Seattle Space Needle in comparison to the fragile fluid glass of Chihuly. Both are magnificent landmarks in their own rights.
In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #193: Spicy and #194: Towers
Man made heavens A meretricious imitation To trees covered in birdsong
Don’t get me wrong, I am in awe of the human capability to create beautiful art, but nothing compares to the cosmos which is what inspires our art in the first place. Waking up under a canopy of trees by a birdsong alarm is my idea of heaven (even if my old back is stiff from sleeping on the ground).
In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #185: Heavens
Grace does not come easily. It is a product of hard work and rugged determination. It is the steadfast willingness to move through the pain without blame, shame or disappointment. It is the ability to drown out the noise and attack life with laser like focus. It is the resolve to rise above the messiness of all that is human and embrace all that is beautiful.
To keep my shit
In one sock
In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #159: Rugged
A giant pain in my ass
Just nature doing its thing
I put the top post together on Wednesday. The idea was that giant is a matter of perspective. A flower that comes to my knee is as giant to an insect as a redwood tree is to us and everything in the universe is a matter of scale. So much for light and pretty. By Saturday the insect world had taken a dark turn in my life. I had a termite inspection and needless to say the house failed. Badly. Formosan termites had gotten into the first story floor via a covered area under the stairs. These rat bastards can reduce what in scale to them is a giant house to pulp in a year. Saturday while cleaning up the damaged wood with four letter expletives pouring from my mouth I realized that the only reason I was pissed was because the termites were breaking down my house instead of a dead tree. That what they are doing is vital to the earth’s survival. Imagine if nothing broke down, nothing was recycled and energy was never transferred. Then life could not be sustained. In a weird way I am grateful they exist and eventually, these little guys will have their way and the house will be rendered back to the earth. It just better be long after I have moved on. For now I am taking evil pleasure in watching these little buggers squirm in the sunlight.
In response to Pic and a Word Challenge # 108: Giants and the Weekly Photo Challenge: Scale.
Last year’s bright plumage
Song a distant memory
Scattered on the ground
Well over fifty
Day to day
Wrapped in androgyny
Land of facts and figures
Precision and accuracy
Hard, cold, impersonal
Forgetting it was okay to blossom,
Have pretty plumage, have desires
Feeling guilty for playfulness
Left wanting, needing a break
Craving connections, the truth
I do not want my youth back
I merely seek balance
A world of softness and light
The universal language
Of humans on earth
As spirituality and belief in a higher power or “God” is a universal sentiment, are human brains wired to believe in God because it is real or do we believe in God because is it a survival mechanism?
Faith that there is something beyond the gate is what propels us forward both as individuals and as a species. So as long as the universe has its way does it really matter if God is real? Life and the universe are no less miraculous.
In response to Patrick Jennings Pic and a Word Challenge #12: Faith
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