May this bold, beautiful bloom brighten your day, as well.
Daylily, July 19, 2019
Thankful Thursday: exuberant flower edition
flowers
Wordless Wednesday: Valerian edition
July 16, 2020
Today’s offering
May 29, 2019
This iris bloomed in my garden not quite two years ago, beautiful despite being battered by the elements.
Iris are hardy flowers and I look forward to seeing this one bloom again this coming spring.
Friday Haiku
May 16, 2020
Color from the past
warm refuge on this gray day
one poppy two bees
#Caturday with Marcel
Here’s another installment of Marcel and the ever-blooming geranium.
February 5, 2020
This photo is from February, but could’ve been taken today or yesterday. The familiar serenity of the image evokes peace and contentment.
Wishing a good #Caturday to all the feline-lovers out there.
Sunday Confessional: focus issues
I’m struggling to focus today so it feels very appropriate to post an out-of-focus flower from my garden last spring.
Cranesbill. May 23, 2020
Even though it’s not a sharp image, the bright pink and the various shades of green are soothing. And I have nothing but admiration for a bloom that stands tall while others hunker down.
Phlox R Us
This spent phlox is a pretty accurate representation for how I’m feeling today.
August 6, 2020
Bloomed out.
Worn out.
Depleted.
But just as this hardy perennial will gather its resources in order to bloom again in the future, so will I. Hopefully, it won’t take me until next summer to do so.
What do you see?
I see aquarium plants waving gently in the water.
In reality, this is sedum and penstemon growing in my front garden. But my lack of focus and the poor exposure make it look like aquatic plants. Rather artsy-fartsy, methinks.
Sunday Confessional: tree no more
For years, a cherry tree flourished in a four feet by four feet space on the patio. It was lovely and we made pie with its fruit. The birds, bees, and we loved it. Then the tree became sick and we had to cut it down. Last summer, one volunteer sunflower grew in that space.
Sunflowers on patio. July 12, 2020.
This year, it’s a literal sunflower forest. I just took my camera out there to finally document the tangle of stalks and blooms. And I smiled the entire time. Here’s a tiny sampling of the happy flowers thriving there.
My confession? Right now I hardly miss our dear old cherry tree.
Happiness is
Dayliles make me happy. They’re cheery and vibrant. They intrigue from every angle.
Daylilies in my front yard. July 3, 2020.
Also? They’re a very low maintenance perennial. What’s not to love?
Poppy bee mine
I had poppy-envy yesterday as I walked the neighborhood. One yard was filled with happy orange poppies, bouncing in the breeze. Why hadn’t mine bloomed yet?
This morning, I looked out the window and saw two bursts of orange! And when I got closer with my camera, I saw the bees were also celebrating those cheery blooms.
Front yard. May 16, 2020.
Such a nice way to begin my weekend. Wishing everyone a blooming-good day!
The gift that keeps on giving
Allium blooming on slope. May 13, 2020.
One of my favorite aspects of spring is being surprised by what pokes through the soil. Years ago, my mother-in-law gifted me some allium and I’d forgotten all about it, possibly because it didn’t come up last year.
This year, though, I’m blessed with these lovely and intricate orbs. Bees love them, I love them.
Surprise!
Not yet, but soon
April 25, 2016.
I’m really, really hoping my iris bloom this year despite the various snowstorms and freezes. I really, really need the boost. Until then, I will bask in the glory of these beauties from nearly four years ago.
Come on iris, please do your thing!
Exuberance
Three years ago today, I arrived in Amsterdam. I was jetlagged and foggy in the head, but still remember the lift I got from the mounds of tulips blooming in a nearby park.
Amsterdam. April 28, 2017.
Such exuberant flowers, unruly in their passionate display. We should all live so boldly.
Friday Haiku
Irrigation ditch. March 30, 2019.
Delicate balance
sustainable extraction
symbiotic life
Making friends
Vinca. April 23, 2019.
Nobody sees a flower really; it is so small. We haven’t time, and to see takes time – like to have a friend takes time. ~ Georgie O’Keefe
In these days of social distancing, it’s vital we make friends wherever and whenever possible.
Hello, Vinca Minor. My name is Tracy. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.
On the upswing
Gratitude!
Neighbor’s yard. April 1, 2020.
After 20 days of not feeling well, I’m regaining my health. Still have my morning cough episodes, but yesterday I walked the neighborhood (2.25 miles, yo!) and today did yard clean-up for three hours and then took another walk. I’m tired now, but not to-the-bone-fatigued. Whatever illness was dogging me, it’s on the way out. Woot! Woot! Woot!
To celebrate, here’s a beautiful little bouquet I photographed in my neighbor’s yard.
Take me away, lavender
Hidden bee in lavender. July 16, 2016.
We’re months away from lavender blooming in our yard, but just looking at this photo brings calm. And when I breathe deeply, I can almost smell the flowers.
Must remember to breathe . . .
Undiminished
Seventeen years ago, I went to the Iowa Writers’ Workshop for a three-week session with Marilynne Robinson which was an all-around wonderful experience. She dispensed much wisdom, mostly about reading and writing, but also about life. And this morning, as I looked at the lilies I received from Zippy five days ago, I thought about something Marilynne said during one of our workshops:
People after the age of 23 realize that they’re in the iron fist of gravity and will collect diminishing returns.
At that time, I was 40-years-old and only heard her message on an intellectual level. The thing was, I didn’t feel very far removed from 23 years of age; my returns weren’t yet greatly diminished. After all, every morning I got up and ran fast along the river!
Today I’m feeling more akin to these lilies that, after five days in a vase, broke from their stems in the main bouquet and fell to the countertop. These lilies whose petals are fading and wilting. Lilies in the iron fist of gravity and time.
Flowers still fierce and beautiful in their own way.
Sedentary photography
This afternoon I was doing my usual thang, sitting in a patch of sunshine, when I noticed the lovely blooms on my Christmas Cactus. I hoisted myself up and went for the camera. Then I sat back down and snapped a few pics.
Christmas Cactus blooming on February 16, 2020.
Unfortunately, there was a hair on the camera’s mirror which clearly showed at the bottom of the lower bloom. So I cropped strategically to rid the photo of that distraction.
Sit-and-shoot. Crop-and-fix.
Works for me.
Letting go
Lilies letting go, Amsterdam. April 29, 2017.
I just returned home after my first Trager session in 5+ years. Let’s just say I’m waaaaay relaxed. Good thing I already took care of today’s must-do list because now I’m off to put on my jammie pants and melt onto the couch.
Just breathe
Blue Flax in raised patio bed. May 17, 2018.
Nothing profound, nothing insightful or educational.
Just me posting a blue flax, hoping the image brings a moment of calm in these very rough waters.
Thankful Thursday: mixed bag edition
October 7, 2019
Today I am thankful for:
- The color purple which I wore to critique group dinner last evening after
finishing my work-for-hire assignment in the afternoon. - A rousing hoop-dancing session this morning before the onset of flu this afternoon.
- My space heater and oscillococcinum.
In defense of not living in the moment
Lilac bloom on May 17, 2018.
The thermometer currently reads 18 degrees. The sky is gray. It’s snowing and blowing, and is forecast to continue like that through tomorrow morning. I try to live in the moment, to be mindful and present in my life. But right now, in this moment, I’m looking ahead to spring and lilacs in bloom.
Fight me, Pema Chödrön.
Poppy pride
Many people welcome and celebrate autumn’s arrival, and I agree there’s much to be said for cooler temperatures. However, I’m not a fan of stuff dying off. I get that it has to happen, but what makes my heart soar is the new growth and bright colors after long, dark winters.
So today I take another look back at the poppies from my front yard. Look at all that glorious color and all that potential for many more blooms!
On this final day of September, I celebrate the exuberant poppy.
