sunflowers

Thankful Thursday: the common

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

Life feels difficult the last few days–personally, professionally, and globally–and now more than ever, I’m grateful for nature’s gifts. Today I’ve taken solace in the presence of many magpies (my next door neighbor just confirmed her dog–again— spread kibble in their backyard) as they fly to-and-fro, pause to snack on Rainbow’s offerings, and bathe in my bird bath.

Magpies are common around here yet they never fail to lift my spirits. Equally common are the bright, cheery sunflowers smiling in my yard and throughout the neighborhood. These, too, always bring a smile. And when that sunflower sighting includes a Common Checkered-Skipper?

Backyard. August 12, 2024

Well, then my gratitude knows no bounds. Even when I gaze upon the image nearly a month later, it’s like bottled Balm for the Soul.

Nature’s refuge

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

I’m in the final stretch of revisions before sending the middle-grade manuscript back to my agent so the book can go on submission in the new year. The work feels both like a blessing and a curse. I’m grateful to be able to focus on something besides the horrific reality of our government’s complicity in the genocide in Gaza, but also sometimes feel selfish for escaping reality. Deep inside, I know that’s silly, and not only because the story I’m revising focuses on righting societal wrongs.

I also realize it’s silly to begrudge myself my creative outlet because we all need a refuge, whether it’s via the art we create or connection to the natural world.

July 20, 2023

In that spirit, I’m offering this Painted Lady on a sunflower. I photographed this in July and gazing upon their interconnectedness replenished my spirit as soon as I found it in my files. Maybe this image will do the same for you.

She’s a Lady

/ Tracy Abell / 11 Comments

My intent was to quickly post this cheery photo from my backyard of a Painted Lady butterfly on a sunflower (along with bonus insect), but then decided I should take the time to verify that this is, indeed, a Painted Lady. It is.

July 20, 2023

But in the verification process, I also learned a few facts:

  • Painted Lady butterfly is the most widespread of all butterfly species in the world (found on every continent but Antarctica and Australia).
  • Their entire lifespan (from egg to death) is 15-29 days (so, life expectancy is 2-4 weeks).
  • Females lay up to 500 eggs in that time.
  • They migrate, sometimes 100 miles/day, and can fly up to 25 mph.
  • They’re very lovely and bring smiles to the observer (okay, that’s more opinion than fact, but tell me I’m wrong).

Contemplating that 4-week lifespan makes me think of all the time and energy I waste on things that don’t matter. Time to get busy living my life to the fullest! Spoiler alert: I won’t be laying 500 eggs.

Sunday Confessional: the best laid plans

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

Tomorrow we’re leaving for higher elevation and cooler temperatures. For this, I am very grateful and know we’re exceedingly privileged to be able to avoid the heat. My confession? I’d hoped to have written and scheduled a Climate Movement Monday post (and possibly a couple other posts with some of the photos I’ve been taking), and that’s not going to happen. But if you do have anything to share, climate-wise, I’d love to hear (especially if it’s good news!), so please leave a comment.

One of the many sunflowers in the backyard. July 19, 2023

In the meanwhile, I extend wishes for a good week, moderate weather, and lots of smiles and laughter.

A little pretty

/ Tracy Abell

Our internet was out for much of the day which was a welcome reprieve from election-day reality. I’m headed to the living room for some calming yoga. But first, here’s a little sunflower tableau to brighten the day.

August 4, 2022

Though we may be battered and weary, onward we go.  Keep on shining, people.

Gratitude

/ Tracy Abell / 8 Comments

This morning started out rough as the weight of all we’re enduring hit me. Sometimes I wish I could live in a happy state of denial (“the pandemic is over and X, Y, Z aren’t happening, either!”), and eagerly greet each new day. Alas, I’m not wired that way.

The good news is, I’m feeling better now.
The birds are singing and the sun is shining.
Gratitude!

Backyard. August 4, 2022

And I’m forever grateful that sunflowers exist.

Exploring the sunflower theme

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

When we returned from our walk around the neighborhood this morning, I spotted these two extra-tall sunflowers peering at us over the fence.

July 26, 2022

I took their photo with the intention of a Twofer Tuesday post. But after downloading the images from the camera, I discovered some sunflower pics Zippy had taken last week.

Sunflower plus an upright male Goldfinch:

Sunflower plus an upside down Goldfinch:

And a whole lot of sunflowers plus an almost-disappeared Goldfinch:
July 20, 2022

Did you spot him in that tangle of green and yellow? If not, check the  upper right corner.

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.

Payback

/ Tracy Abell / 5 Comments

Wait, what? You wanted this sunflower bud to blossom?

September 9, 2021

Well, maybe you shouldn’t have chased me away from the peanut feeder. What goes around, comes around.

Because she loved sunflowers

/ Tracy Abell / 10 Comments

Michelle would have been 51 years-old today. Here’s one of the many sunflowers in my yard that remind me of her spirit and generous heart.

July 3, 2021

Thank you for brightening my life with your friendship, Michelle. I’ll keep tilting my face to the sky and endless possibilities.

The more things change

/ Tracy Abell / 9 Comments

ONE. As Haiti is devastated by another earthquake, I think back to a blog post from 2010 in  which I wrote:

Haiti has always struggled mightily
to survive on her own terms.
She’s strong, I know.
I just wish the universe would quit testing her.

And here the Haitian people are again, facing more death, destruction, and heartbreak.

TWO. As the Taliban moves closer to regaining control in Afghanistan, I think back to those days of feeling completely enraged/overwhelmed/defeated by how easily Bush/Cheney & Co fear-mongered the U.S. into invading and occupying Afghanistan. I distinctly remember sitting on my patio, drinking a beer, and laughing/crying as I read David Rees’s GET YOUR WAR ON.**

The one good constant in all this is that my patio table remains the same

The clip-art strips were and continue to be profane, hysterical, and spot-on in the framing of how we lost our collective minds after September 11, 2001. (**Lather. Rinse. Repeat. for the invasion/occupation of Iraq, covered in GET YOUR WAR ON II)

THREE. Once again, I’m feeling enraged, overwhelmed, and defeated. There’s so much good we could be doing for one another on a massive scale and yet, people continue to think the military is the answer to every issue, despite all evidence to the contrary.

FOUR. So here I am (again) turning to nature to soothe my soul.

August 14, 2021

Inner sunshine

/ Tracy Abell

I just had a session with my therapist and feel really good!

July 4, 2021

Lighter.
Liberated.
Exhilarated.

Wishing those same feelings for everyone out there. Happy Monday!

Yellow + Blue

/ Tracy Abell / 2 Comments

As I gazed out the window over the kitchen sink today, I saw sunflowers blooming in the backyard. When did that happen? Just the other day, they were tiny green plants and now they’re standing tall.

Sunflower and compost tumbler. July 3, 2021

The sun was shining bright so I waited until there was cloud cover before going out with my camera. Then I couldn’t resist photographing this lone flower next to what could be mistaken for a patch of blue sky.

I’m so happy they’ve returned in all their sunshine-kissed glory.

Birthday gifts

/ Tracy Abell / 12 Comments

It’s a beautiful day in Colorado on this, my birthday. The snow is melting due to sunshine and a balmy 50 degrees.

August 4, 2020.

Late November always presents a mental health challenge and I struggle to summon the enthusiasm for these days. However, I got up and hoop-danced this morning which felt very good. And, as always, it lifts my spirits to gaze upon a cheery sunflower. This one bloomed several months ago and I award the image bonus points for that busy, busy bee. Happy birthday to me.

Rx for what ails me

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

Today’s been exhausting on multiple levels: personal, professional, societal, and human-on-the-planet. I just took a much-needed nap and am now posting this burst of yellow as a reminder of all the beauty in our world.

July 12, 2020.

Next on my self-care agenda? Scrubbing out my kitchen sinks.

Please do whatever you need to take care of yourselves.

Sunday Confessional: tree no more

/ Tracy Abell / 3 Comments

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.