Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

A too bright day of dappled paths and sun stripped fences, Light shards bouncing, scattering, scampering, Hanging sheets, white and playing, Laundry baskets pulled along, close pins pinching, towels flapping, Hunting berries down the canyon, Pulling onions, shelling peas, Harvest coming, ripening, softening, Swelling in the summer sun. Central Park Reservoir Berries

Happy Blurry Buds (new lens, please)

I once was a flower of spirit & elan I can’t remember when I was part of a cluster of beauty you see But I didn’t see it then I think I had a sweet bouquet But I can’t remember when My beauty faded, like it does I regret it now and then I lost my petals and fell to the ground I’m not sure what happened then Somehow this summer I came back again But I can’t remember when! Snowball bush in the Secret Garden -- 2013 Mission for the day: 1. Select a time when you should be doing something else 2. Breath deeply. In......Out. Iiiiiiinnnnn..... Out... 3. Picture a clock in your mind. (how many of you pictured an alarm clock with a bell on top?) 4. Now think: Tick! jump! Tock! jump! Tick! jump! Tock!! 5. Finally, recall the quiet, sweeping second hands of old...... tiiccckkkktocccckkktiiccckkkktocccckkk May you be blessed sweeping petals and slowly changing things, ( was a bloom with esprit and élan,)

I love these hip-minimizing downward shots! Beach Stroller, July 2013 Sag Harbor, photo by Edith D.

Did you ever have a time in your life when the ages of your life were switching back and forth, oscillations all over the place?  I have!  Past returning again and again, mid years tumbling over each other, today a sort of happenstance.. Time circling, head reeling Panoramas bending in Where did I lose my timing? Before, after, synchronize! Spinning in a daze of might-have-beens Where is the middle way? Years flashing, streaking, blurring Over and over, one more time Pennies dropping, arrow hovering Lead ball closing in. Sea grass tumbles in the evening sun Wet roots, clammy with potential. Shall I double down on the red today Or hope against hope for a black? The colors are running, the dye is cast Just one more quarter turn! Atlantic Ocean at Sag Harbor

Serious Photographer trying out the New Media on the local Ocean and Moon Edith on the Beach

Individual at Metropolitan Museum of Art holding virtual head Perseus, Perseus Immitator, and Perseus Immitator's Frightened Observer at the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Perseus Immitator's Birthday

I heard about it a time or two, This particular path is big taboo, But what else is a person supposed to do? The entire garden is calling for you! There are blossoms! and Sunlight! and Forks to explore! and the Birds! and the Bees! It's too much to ignore! The leaves are so green and the scents are so nice, Sometimes the answer is, Don't Think Twice.

fer·ry    /ˈferē/ Noun A boat or ship for conveying passengers and goods, esp. over a relatively short distance and as a regular service. Verb Convey in a boat, esp. across a short stretch of water. Synonyms ferryboat - raft         (Quiet, now....let's not cause disappointment.  I mean, even if the ferry is seriously late, there is always the chance of a raft...) Harlem Meer in July 2013

The steps weren’t cracked so badly then, the summer when we met. I never did say what I wanted, since I thought it would all work out. What was said there on the broken steps with the fireflies and the early dusk? It was so difficult to listen! My mind turned away I guess. I wonder, though. if it could have changed the situation. I mean if I had spoken up.

As many of us know, Weeds are not Passive Beings.  Rather, they are composed of Elemental Forces just like the rest of us.  This collection of synergistic fuzzy green beings is (surreptitiously) inching its way, centimeter by millimeter by micron, up to and through this completely inadequate fence. Who wants to be stuck behind a fence?  Rusty and charming though it may be?  Freedom!  Territory! Getting in the way of Joggers!  What else is life all about anyway? Green Weeds and a Fence (Central Park, June 2013)

Clutching after reality I make my way in the setting sun (Seeking out the unlit door, Paper bag rumpled in the corner, Old man hunching up the dirty steps.) I walk through the iron-studded door into the mythic sanctuary (Walls covered with metaphors, Banks of unlit penny candles, Stained glass.) I light the wooden stick from a nearby flickering prayer (Smell the old dust and new wax, Kneel on the seasoned wood, Listen for the echoes in the cubbyholes.) One for you, one for me, one for the middle ground