Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Winter Garden: alive with beauty, minted in texture.

There’s tar at the edge of the new asphalt road; Cold in winter, soft and sticky in the summer sun There’s nothing like a paved road/ I guess it takes a gravel, dusty, dirt-filled one to know the difference. When I walk along my mental tar-edged road, it’s December: dark, lights bubbling in the window evergreen, me longing for a way to comprehend my aching ribcage, frantic bloody cuticles. Did I eat that other box of cookies, and what will I do for the money? Dig into the old purse, the cushions fed by drunken, snoring, singing, whining, biting, sniping parties? How I dreamed of fixing everything. I new I could! (Throat aching, fingers hurting, luminescent cookies in the closet corner.) I’ll wake up willing, armed and ready: mending broken pieces, gluing back the days of childhood.  Visiting the slant-roofed farmhouse, grass high, hollow tree, full of whiskey.  Dinner at the table with the extra piece of plywood, how I dreamed of home, carsick, staring at the fading countryside. Y

Incredible Winter Tree on 3rd Avenue Incredible Fall Tree on 3rd Avenue

This gorgeous view is from the Hill overlooking the Harlem Meer and the Conservancy Garden, Winter is setting in from the chilly tree tops to the earth below.  Harlem Meer from the Hill, December 2011 January Prediction..... Hill Overlooking Harlem Meer, view #2

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

All the Way from China (replay) I have an old toy that came from China,  Animals cut from colored cloth and cotton batting Threaded with embroidery. A bird, a frog, a dragon and a dog,  One after the other on a string. It wasn’t spring then but I was there for certain. I was there when the pomegranates sold from baskets set on blankets, When wooden carts were pulled by hand,  When bicycles packed the hard roads, When people rolled and wrapped the harvest. It was fall of course, not spring.  I was there, though, for certain.

Reservoir of Water Fowl and Ice Crossings  Central Park Reservoir in February with Ice, Birds and Grasses 

It's nearing sundown on 96th Street, and the children have escaped for the night

Beautiful Bethesda Fountain, dressed in neutrals

A wintry Buddha with a promise of a hopeful spring  ©Pat Kvill of Edmonton

The most gorgeous photo of Central Park's Bow Bridge: Fresh, snowy and lamp-touched ©Alan Schein of New York:   alanschein@nyc.rr.com

Beautiful crispy winter day in Estes Park,  2010 ©Vera, 2010

You go straight up this path 'till you get to the corner up there, and then you turn left.  You'll be on the West side in less than 15 minutes. 

These snowy remnants of a mysterious encounter are under investigation by an elite team of Central Park trackers.  The unofficial verdict is that two happy life forms found one another and had a lot of fun. Northern edge of Turtle Pond

Tell me again about the castle!  Please?  Well, it’s a far one this time, way inside the corner of the mind. You may remember travelling there, back in '17. There’s a chilly rose-pink sunset, but I guess that’s just as well, since Things are as they should be.  There’s a tall gate that guards the tree lights and a table set with candles and a roast with carrots and onions and walnuts wrapped in sugar cookies. The fire logs throb with red, the big stones warm the great hall The planked floor is spread with a soft rug and a knitted pillow. Dawn breaks with snowy craters, tatted and iced by the night.   Snow Castles

Our Magic Tree waits in the snow for the dark sparrows to feed

It has been awhile since I took little Ounce for a walk, so I went about searching in the usual places.  Ounce was playing in the Rambles just above the Boathouse and was so excited!  You know how Ounce likes to play in water and usually we find a puddle and go for a swim, if it isn't too deep. I explained that it is now winter .  The day was simply too cold, so I took us to the Boathouse for a warm drink. Poor Ounce was so disappointed!  I found a french fry, but it just wasn't the same. 

I love an open road White line vanishing Riding down the ribbon   Life on the run Spinning under the floorboards   Billowing over the windshields Waking up the shadows Chasing down the sun   Heading West, near 96th Street

He told me he'd be here by now!  I hope he isn't caught in that pressure inversion over the interstate.