Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Winter Aspen Tangled in a Blue Southern Colorado Sky

Cold blue-white skies Straw stalks bitten down in the harvested field. The horse barely whinnies in the low sun. I snuggle down within the frozen roots and watch the teeth chomping, Milk-soft lips, hoofs stepping one by one, pressing in the earth; I'm quick; I move out of range and continue my surveillance. Warm brown eyes and a forelock of course. A low toss of a mane, Moist breath white as smoke in the cold,  A soft rumbling on the exhale. No flies now, no swishing tails.  Chomp, pull, grind, chomp, chomp pull.. I smell wet melting frost on the yellow ground. I almost hear the cottonwoods along the partly frozen creek, and the rusted iron wheel used to set the sluice gate. White snow patches on the blue mountains,  The evening star at last. Southern Colorado

Hello? Hello?? I may be cut off at any moment! Here's what has happened! I was minding my own business on an off-brand bus going from Denver to Moffat Colorado, when we stopped in Fairplay (read South Park) for a rest stop. I got up, left the bus, purchased a coffee, and boarded again. Something seemed a little off, yes, but still it was familiar enough. Imagine my shock, when over to my left I spied a phantom shadow of another bus! I glanced toward the front of my bus, and there sat my sixth grade gym teacher with a famous particle physicist. Help! I yelled. Clearly unheard, I looked around in desperate dismay. At last, up in the mid-center of my field of view, was a dim and fading Emergency Exit sign. I roused myself and lurched my way toward the dimming red sign. As I careened forward I spotted a second bus on a right bend in the road. I leaped through the fading door. There I was pulling out of the Fairplay parking lot as though no time had passed! Yet as we wen...

Sometimes, in late evening, it seems as though black and white is a good idea.... North Conservancy Garden, late afternoon in Black and White

Deep purple-red house buried in orange-red leaves, with a mailbox

Fall Reflections Bicyclist in Central Park, East Drive

It's an overcast day, damp with fall, colored with possibilities! Mission for the day: a. Locate one Fall Leaf. b. Find a Person. c Give Person this incredible thing.

This impostor was captured in pixels by our clever photographer, who claimed to be simply taking photos of People with Purple Things in a Bag..  Cooperation was practically instantaneous.  The actual mission was, as we know, to identify and catalogue those persons fleeing from The City to invade peaceful villages Upstate. Person located on a bench near Bedford Hills

Metropolitan Museum of Art, November 2011

Normal phenomena are hard to get into focus these days, since this is a time of transitions: among seasons, time zones, day and night, mist, mirage and miracles

Our hidden Sumac is often perplexed about what is important to contemplate next Should I act innocent while I plan my escape, Or wait for security plans to take shape? Am I locked in or out? Should I cower or shout? Should I look for a file or just sit here awhile? Maybe I'll worry tomorrow instead. It's late and I'm tired and ready for  bed.

I melted away today, as though it were an ordinary thing, to lose track of all my edges. It was on an inhale, I am certain, and in a neutral sun of a day. It so happens that I found an Unexpected Ticket, kept safe for many years inside my inside pocket. Off I went, rolling and skipping, borderless and giddy. Imagine my surprise to find a stream-lit cave, hidden in a shadow. Yes! It was a spirit cave, full of painted faces, lessons learned and candy cotton, ferris wheels and reasons, candy corn and water lilies, moonlit paths (that’s where we met) and fresh blue midnights. Yes, you were there, and one more time I felt the world on fire, swollen with dreams. Central Park North in Fall

Suddenly it's a fall sun, burning cold and golden in the late afternoon. Trees smeared with hazy leaves, pale blues and snapping satins, gay November branches.

They’re missing. Those green hills and grey-edged clouds, and the summer rain, shuttered away and slatted with fall, Thud.

One petal, two petal, three petal four. The numbers are perfect, and so is the score. Could there be a happier moment today than watching these riotous colors at play?