nature

Just because

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

When everything feels cruel and horrific, I lean on natural beauty. This photo isn’t especially special, but gazing upon these coneflowers that bloomed in my garden brings me a moment of inner peace.

July 16, 2020

Maybe it can do the same for you.

Magpie Monday: shadow dancing

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

Right after I cleaned and refilled the bird bath, an assortment of magpies utilized the facilities. Not sure if this is the same bird in each photo, but I enjoyed watching their appreciation for the water.

December 19, 2021

It’s always a good day when Black-billed Magpies pay a visit.

Each of us, magnificent

/ Tracy Abell

Today’s reminder for anyone who needs it: show up as yourself. You are magnificent, warts and all! (Or, in this pelican’s case, bumps that form on the bill during breeding season.)

Barr Lake State Park. April 8, 2021

Remember, when you show up as your magnificent, authentic self, you’ll find your squadron.

Shout-out to all who’ve engaged and connected with me in real life and an online capacity: thank you! ❤️

Wrinkles and torn wings

/ Tracy Abell

As much as I loathe this aging thing, I’m beginning to recognize that I am now a healthier person in terms of self-worth and knowing who I am and where I fit in the world. That’s been a good trade-off for the wrinkles. ~ Patty Duke

June 24, 2021

Life does have a way of leaving its mark upon the body. But hey, it’s good to know we can still fly, torn wings or not.

Autumnal state of mind

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Dark-eyed Junco. November 12, 2021

Not the sun or the summer alone, but every hour and season yields its tribute of delight; for every hour and change corresponds to and authorizes a different state of the mind, from breathless noon to grimmest midnight. Nature is a setting that fits equally well a comic or a mourning piece. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sunnyside up

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

November is typically a tough month for me due to the lack of daylight and the overall brown palette. This one’s been even harder due to my clomp-clomp boot. Tomorrow will be two weeks of inactivity, but it feels like two months already. And because my foot still hurts, I can’t stop wearing it yet. My follow-up appointment/verdict isn’t for another week, but I’m going to be smart and clomp around until I hear otherwise.

All this is to say that I was heading for an emotional crash a couple hours ago. But I turned my attention to something I’d been dreading and putting off, and what do you know, I feel so much better now! Funny how that works. *ahem*

Here’s to an improved mood and sunny summer memories! And if you’re in need of a boost, I hope this cheery sunflower also brings you a smile.

In my backyard. July 3, 2021

November doesn’t last forever.

Thankful Thursday: out my window

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

It means even more to me than usual to have winged visitors to my yard. Because I’m currently stuck in a walking boot, I haven’t been venturing out much at all. So, today I dedicate my gratitude to these four birds, in the order in which they appeared.

First up, is a House Finch that immediately flew to the bath right after I’d cleaned and filled it this morning:

Moments later, this Red-breasted Nuthatch came for a drink:

Then another male House Finch posed in the maple tree:

And this afternoon, while taking a break from revisions, I spotted a radiant Woodhouse’s Scrub Jay:

It’s only Day 4 of my walking-boot-sentence and the Herman Munster clomp-clomp-clomp is already wearing thin. All gratitude for birds!

Twofer Tuesday: known and unknown

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Funny how something is an instant “known” and then, upon closer examination, can turn into an “unknown.” For example, this insect I photographed back in August while visiting the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge. Clearly a grasshopper, right?

August 20, 2021

Well, I just went down the proverbial rabbit hole in an attempt to more specifically identify the type of grasshopper. I’m admitting defeat. Apparently, there are over 100 species of grasshopper in Colorado and to my eye, the markings on their legs are quite similar.

On the other hand, this immediately “unknown” insect was quickly identified via an online search as Tetraopes texanus, otherwise known as the Milkweed Beetle. Oddly, this particular beetle is not on a milkweed (and no, I’m not even going to try to identify this plant).

On this cold, damp, gray November afternoon, I’m basking in the warm memories of that visit to the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge where keen eyes reap intriguing rewards.

 

Thankful Thursday

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

It might be nearing the end of the day, but it’s never too late to share gratitude. Today I am grateful for a productive critique session with my critique group last night.  As always, the Writing Roosters had good insights and offered suggestions that will make my beloved novel shine.

And to celebrate, here’s a bouquet of wild asters  that remind me of a fireworks display. I photographed them last summer as we hiked the Oh Be Joyful Trail.

July 15, 2021

Oh, to be joyful and filled with gratitude.

Twofer Tuesday

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

Here are two of my favorite things: honey bees and lavender.

July 18, 2019

We still have a few late-blooming stalks of  lavender (this photo was taken a couple summers ago), but not a lot of bees around. Which is why I was surprised over the weekend while reading outside on a bench I’d pushed up against the side of the house to avoid the wind. Surrounded by concrete and brick, engrossed in the pages, I became aware of a faint buzzing that got louder and louder. A honey bee flew next to my outstretched leg before landing on my arm and then my chest. After a brief pause there, it flew to my collar. Much closer to my ear (bzzzz bzzzz ). And face.

Bees fascinate me more than freak me out, however, I admit to feeling a bit nervous about this buzzing visitor. Still, I maintained my calm, congratulating myself on the chill attitude. Until . . . the honey bee moved down to the end of my sleeve and crawled in my sleeve. Chill attitude officially over!  I shrieked and shook my arm to dislodge the bee, which seemed to take forever due to the layers I wore.

When the bee safely flew away-away, I chided myself for panicking. And then I remembered the terrifying bees-in-clothing experience I had years ago, and cut myself slack.

Fortunately, this latest bee interaction was entirely friendly and bees still rank among my very favorite things.