Spiritual Scenes from September 15

A large part of beauty is light.  The camera doesn’t always capture it, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.

Shepherding shadow

Shepherding shadow

Portulaca sprouts out from a thin crack in the concrete

Portulaca sprouts out from a thin crack in the concrete

The spirit descended

The spirit descended

Intersection

Intersection

 

Charity

Charity

 

 

Scene from September 14

The first time we viewed this house, our realtor said she could picture our girls climbing all over this boulder on the property.  Mere seconds later, their little bodies ranged all over it.  She apologized for jinxing us!  After removing several trees from the yard and only recently removing the leftover wood, the girls rediscovered it and, today, turned it into their canvas.  Remembering that first day and seeing how they’ve made it their own, I can’t help but see the cyclical quality of this year’s passage and how our little corner of the world becomes home.

Calcium carbonate comes home

Calcium carbonate comes home

Non-superstitious Scenes from September 13

I set out on an errand with no particular subject in mind for today’s photos, but camera safely stowed in the passenger seat.  Then I spied this scene on the side of the road.

I couldn't decide between this shot, wild grasses and golden rod framing it out . . .

I couldn’t decide between this shot, wild grasses and golden rod framing it out . . .

Or this one with the focus on the reds and reflections.

Or this one with the focus on the reds and reflections.

 

 

Scenes from September 12

We all grow mold and mildew the longer we hang around so I guess today’s subject is appropo for my birthday.  But my daughter did say the fungi issuing from the sides of this tree were fairy steps.  Perhaps I also can inspire imagination and delight on some level.  I’ll have to keep that in mind when I blow out my candles.

You say fungi, I say fairy steps

You say fungi, I say fairy steps

shroom closeup

Scenes from September 11

I had some quiet moments by myself as the sun set this evening.  A somber day, but the calls of playing children wafted in on the wind.  A sliver of moon rose above the trees.  The quiet thrum of life buzzed all around.

Long may she wave . . .

Long may she wave . . .

Knowledge is power no matter the time or place

Knowledge is power no matter the time or place

Wisdom stands sentinel

Wisdom stands sentinel

After each dusk, comes a dawn

After each dusk, comes a dawn

 

 

 

Scenes in a Westerly Direction – September 10

On a rare morning on which my husband and I found ourselves alone (as he put it: all three of our children in school = mind blown), we traveled to a nearby town for a supremely delicious and grossly oversized breakfast.  After which, we took a stroll in the park.  How provincial of us.  Certainly a change of pace.

So many secret paths and warrens

So many secret paths and warrens

How many bees can you find?

How many bees can you find?

Love this

Love this

A step back in time?

A step back in time?

Ironically not right on the shore

Ironically not right on the shore

 

 

 

 

Scenes from September 9

I first noticed these art deco mailboxes in a little country post office several months ago.  I, like so many other times before, wished I had my camera with me.  I vowed to return and take pictures if I could do so without looking like a nut job.  Don’t know if I succeeded in the latter (I jumped when I realized the clerk watching me from the window), but I got the pics.

Functional art deco

Functional art deco

They don't make 'em like they used to . . .

They don’t make ’em like they used to . . .

 

Scenes from September 8

Baking soda is my new best friend.

After a tragic red wine incursion on my husband’s part on the kitchen counter, I thought for sure the white laminate was done for.  Alas, baking soda is my new savior.  I don’t think I’ve ever before accessed its truly miraculous cleansing powers.  Nor have I so closely examined my kitchen counter, though we’ve lived here for a year!  Or maybe it’s just never been clean enough for me to notice the subtle pattern in it 😉

Red wine disaster averted (for the time being – don’t ask 😕 ), we enjoyed a homemade ‘gravy’ from homegrown tomatoes (thanks to my husband’s coworker) and a loaf of delicious peasant bread from a local farm.  Good stuff.

Red wine, meet baking soda.  Baking soda, red wine.

Red wine, meet baking soda. Baking soda, red wine.

Am I the only one who sees the flying nun looking back at her!?

Am I the only one who sees the flying nun looking back at her!?

Scenes from a September Birthday Party

Yesterday we celebrated my daughter’s birthday, leaving me with no time to poke around the local environs with my camera.  I did, of course, take pics of the blowing out of candles and opening of presents, but not of something different after having moved here – or so I thought.  This is the first birthday of hers we’d celebrated in our new home; her last being a mere two weeks before we moved out of our last home.  Our house had already been under contract for almost two months so I thought for sure the first soiree we hosted in Chez Noveau would be her birthday, but the best laid plans and worst real estate stipulations . . . in any event, sweet memories now.

Welcome to my new bow-tique

Welcome to my new bow-tique

Scenes from September 6

My oldest and middle daughters used to hold their breaths as they passed this graveyard, something the oldest picked up from one of the other kids on the school bus.  As they learned the lay of the land, but hadn’t quite mastered it, they inadvertently forgot to do so one day.  When she lived to tell the tale, my oldest announced, we don’t have to hold our breaths anymore; nothing bad’s going to happen.

Not that I thought anything bad was going to happen, but I think I was holding my breath for quite sometime before I felt I had the lay of the land.  A year later and we all breath more freely. (except when we have trash for the dump in the back of the car, which was where we were headed when I made my husband stop for these photos 😉 )

Tell me when the cemetery's coming, Mom!

Tell me when the cemetery’s coming, Mom!

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Small is the gate . . .

Small is the gate . . .

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Dappled quiet light from above

Dappled quiet light from above

 

 

 

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