Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

This part of Manhattan is quiet,  and only a few trees are damaged and down within a couple of blocks.  Of course Central Park  has damages and losses in the hundreds.  All the parks in the city are closed.. Our New York Kentucky Coffee Trees are safe and weathered the unbelievable wind. Yellow's leaves are almost gone, while Yellow & Green has a broken limb but is otherwise fine! Blessings and love to all those who are suffering. Photos tomorrow!

Yellow tree is bearing up leaves still stuck along the limbs, how did they get so big? Yellow’s just a little thing compared to Yellow & Green. I had a white-light come to me once but I didn’t know at the time, so here I am earthbound and running chasing after second chances. I knew a man who found a sheep that lived three years in a Scotland cave. It could barely walk and talk and graze with so much unsheared wool. I am like a quiet morning, slowly filling the backyards up without a sound, fresh with pitted peaches canned for winter I have nothing to say to the dead anymore with their put-down trumped-up charges. Just let them be, I said once more and I let colors talk to me. East 94th Street one of two New York Kentucky Coffee Trees

 Just in time,  it's Autumn Rose's turn Conservancy Garden Roses in Late October

Fall leaf Worn on the edges    like an old hem  Crumpled        Smelling of dawn Horse Chesnut, three years old!

I saw the coolness come before I heard it; a small thinning in the sound, a sight cut along the edges.   I could almost trace the tiny modulation back to its beginning, with that slithered criticism, and that red tongue snapping at the skin. Is there still time to double back along the   harvest path?  Dusk below the conservancy gardens

fresh stamin spears dusted with delicately colored pollen, served on a bed of baby orange petals, garnished with winter green leaves and stems of summer.

Another entry into the annals of Yellow!

Here we come! Here we come!  We're ready, you see! To Be You!  To be Me!  To be Free! Whee! French Conservancy Garden, Central Park

Caught in the mercy of stinging time, lasers slicing at my finger tips, they don’t want to gnarl and bend, sucked into the bone without a single promise! And what about the pale heart, sutured, in its dimpled, cage? Wishing and waiting, hanging on, teasing fire back into these frozen knuckles, pulling old threads and missing moments. Beating time. These are the constant days-- strong in the root and tipped with new life.. Do you still have that Tuscan Yellow evening? Gold with peach and morning colors? I can trade you for a shiny grapple, tied with dreams and tossed into honeysuckles.