I’d watch him early mornings, pre-work hours,
Examining his plot aside the fence,
He’d smile to see the haze of yellow flowers,
That patience soon would bear some evidence.
I wondered how the psyche of this man,
His fingers slaked and bruised with mason’s glue,
Could find contentment, purpose from his land
that ‘fore and after work, he’d tend and hoe.
With pride, when harvest came, he’d reap the gift,
These beauties, filling bushels from the shed,
His chore of love became his evening shift,
We’d marvel at the bounty, rife and red.
Decades hence, with Romas from a stand,
I put up stores of fruit, with him in mind.
Each August, I devote several weekends lovingly coring, peeling and processing Jersey tomatoes from the farmers’ markets. I cannot help but think of Dad, a hardworking tile man, and remember how proud he was of his garden in the back – especially his crop of tomatoes. I remember, too, the Sunday visits home, when he and Mom would load us up with cans of tomatoes from the shelf on the way to the basement. This photo is more than just a bunch of tomatoes…it’s evidence of a treasured legacy.
Official Dogwood Photography Challenge
Week 37 Storytelling: Seasons
The weather is changing! Find inspiration in the seasons.
Great photographers can tell a story with an image.
There doesn’t seem
to be a glimmer,
No sun to be seen.
It’s hidden high,
beyond the gathering
My lonely dockside bench
Side-casts a looming shadow
upon the slaking slats,
As if waiting,
against the choppy,
It’s at these moments
of intersecting time and space,
Of place celestial yet earthbound.
brew-pot of storms,
Week 37 Storytelling: Seasons
The weather is changing! Find inspiration in the seasons.Great photographers can tell a story with an image.
Glancing o’er my shoulder, golden glimmer,
green-white shards with petals lithe and awesome,
Shining ‘gainst the sunrise walk a-shimmer,
Striking, spiking splendor: beachside blossom.
Moon hangs on high, as if by silken thread,
Reminding all that night precedes the dawn,
Black storms recede to wispy gold instead,
This pastel morning after rain has gone.
These seven days and nights we journeyed on
in magic ever-after-ness, and ponder,
Joys abound, from this our marathon
beneath the summer sun, with warmth and wonder.
Our family trek this year will soon be yonder,
Spreading lanes with memories we’ve gathered,
For special moments, ne’er be placed asunder,
And family ties have strengthened with each matter.
I view the sunrise on this last of days,
Vacation ends; new pathways wend their ways.
On this, the last day of our annual Disney-world vacation, I zipped up the luggage for early airline check-in at the Polynesian Village, United Airlines desk.
I stepped out onto our lanai for a last look and a long sip of freshly-brewed Kona coffee. The lagoon waters were still and serene under the waning crescent moon, as the predawn, wispy sky hinted of the dissipating storms from last night, and of the tropical day ahead.
Today is a new day. Today we go home. Today, with a few teary eyes, we leave our home-away-from-home. Our doggies, our tomato plants and our own bed pillows await our return. It was a lovely and memorable vacation for many reasons and our 52nd Wedding Anniversary was joyful and special.
And, as always, it’s nice to come home.
though out of view
as yet, unseen
its singular scent
to full inhale,
as visions of a long ago
invade and deep pervade
A young man
shyly pins it to her dress
And she, in turn
This creamy gardenia, a warm, fragrant, iconic summer bloom, was for my parents the romantic symbol of their courtship. It was the summer of 1944 (I was not yet a glimmer in Daddy’s eye), when on every date, he would present a delicate gardenia blossom to the love of his life. Today, I nurse the buds on my gardenia ‘tree’, recalling with each new blossom, the romantic story they shared with me, so very long ago.
Photo Friday: #warm
Shimmering, shining, strewn upon the shore,
Mollusks wrapped with gem-like stones adorned,
Awaiting to be scooped and swept aloft,
Later; tiny remnant on the shore,
Lovely still, enclosing life no more.
An afternoon with nought to do but perch
amid the verdant lush, on cushioned bench,
My doggie and my camera, neath the birch,
Watching chipmunks digging out their trench.
When in a flash, a wave of black descended
Upon the branches far as I could see,
Alas, the blackbirds, starlings soared, suspended
o’er my head, “They’re back” to grab my seeds!
Preferring most my finches, bluebirds, wrens,
Their warbles, hues; melodious and gay,
Whilst rueing ruder starling, viewed through lens
her plumage seemed perfection on display.
An afternoon in nature, taking time
to look beyond facades that make us blind.
Photo a Friday:#park
ACandy or breath mint; baffled still,
For why must one be often so defined?
Forsooth, the split identity fulfills
the raison d’etre, often, so combined.
I ponder this conundrum, as I find
a lovely, petaled flower, midst my herbs,
Should I snip the shoots before their time;
to opt for flavor or a bloom superb?
Alas, I cannot choose for both disturb
the garden’s purpose: chives are tasty, fine,
And yet to pluck the stem seems a preverb,
My purple blooms will never get to shine.
And so this simple blossom gives me pause,
At nature’s wondrous mysteries and laws.
Official Dogwood Photography Challenge:
Streaming ‘gainst the green,
Nature’s scene, profound simplicity.
Photo Friday: #red
Poetry Contest: Four Line Poem
Write a four line poem that has a specific syllable count. The first line has 1 syllable, the second line has 5 syllables, the third line has 5 syllables, and the last line has 9 syllables. The subject can be anything
It is said that Leonardo DaVinci’s inimitable Mona Lisa, aka “La Gioconda”, was intended to convey the notion of complete happiness and contentment.
So too, does my inimitable husband, aka “The Grandfather”, embody this ideal, as he patiently waits in an accidentally-strewn beach chair in San Juan; while I slosh through the waves at the water’s edge, searching for another perfect sunrise.
Official Dogwood Photography Challenge, Week 17
Balanced composition is pretty straightforward, unless you are trying to shoot in the “Accidental Renaissance” style. So shoot a balanced image in the Accidental Renaissance style.
Compositional Eye: In past challenges we have explored the rules of composition. This year we push the rules even further by using them in specific ways to train your compositional eye.
Photo Friday: #blue