Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Tromp, tromp, shiver and shake It’s too cold to take a walk to the lake We will stay in bed with a book instead And post a shot from a previous lot. ********  Today’s Quiz: The woman in this picture is a) Throwing away an ice cream wrapper b) Petting a small animal c) Reprimanding a small child (out of frame on the right) d) Looking for a toy submarine without a periscope. e) Other   Women at North West Corner of Harlem Meer YES! The correct answer is ---                                                          e) Other  !!

What happens when love takes the time to strengthen, what happens if it passes, and the day tomorrow leaves behind is chilled and withed, holding us without a chance, at the drop off point where death takes over, how can we hold the weary fort, when battle scars the very heart of the earth. How can we love without knowing, how can we hold on without a knotted center keeping us from flying off, how can I watch the day die and still live to see the morning sneaking back to life against the sallow sky? I did, and then I turned around and just walked out of the picture. What could I do? I didn't know how to talk it over. Magnolia Buds in December, Central Park

We all know that elements as beautifully made as Central Park has to be constructed. Well we do know who's actually behind things like beauty. Nonetheless, some elements of earthly movement is a maintenance reality. The construction den in central park is so seldom noticed that it seriously has to be seen to be beieved...

Just take my life, I hand it over, palm full and pulsing. I have no stories to tell anymore, No more backups and no more clogs, no retrievals, and no Aha!s They went down the drain with the last hurrah; Give me the point of the captured moment, when the day is lost in the stars. Give me the time for letting go, When faith is as real as a unicorn, Tell me the way to carry you with me In the puddled sway of eternity. Show me the season for a peak at life and a burnished turn of events as well, come with me into the space between the ring of truth and the tolling bell. Harlem Meer from 109th and Fifth Avenue

Late in the dead afternoon I crawled Up the boulder bunched against a foothill. I don’t remember why, not now. I remember the achy feeling though, And the shallow, predictable demise of it all, After those compass-free days, What buried treasure touched the fire, What silky agent pierced the boundary line? The narrow roadway, white and chalked, Hemming the highland summer meadow, Could I forget those stars, however misaligned? Would I delete that edgeless, radiant, holographic night; Could I forget you, and would I live a single day?

Why is that   plug 4 inches from the socket?       Was it that small coincidence that set it off ? Maybe we should splice it with a piece of life,       Connect those missing kaleidoscopic dots. And by the way,       I do know about those consequences.      ( I read a lot)

Shimmering in the wind, the dry reeds rattle Rattle, swish Time clatters away with a thud. Drowning in yellow leaves, fall sneaks in through the cracks Torn by the wind.   Harlem Meer after the Storm

 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!

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.

Away with the anchors, aweigh aweigh Away with the wind and the sea, We're off to the land of whatever you may, tra-la-la, tra-la-lou, tra-la-lee Tomorrow, the World!

Metropolitan Museum of Art; Latest Exhibit Looking West from Second Floor Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York

Nature comes up with the most incredible things! What are the lily pads doing with fuzzy strings around the edges? Where did that purple and blue come from? And that sun filled center? It’s unbelievably creative and beautiful. No wonder those biologists have so much fun-- Flora, Fauna, Wow!

It was a perfect day for butterflies: sunny but not too hot, crisp and clear with fall touching the secret garden.  I took Butterflies to the garden by bus, and the moment their wings felt the sun they opened at rest for the first time in their lives.  I wanted to take a photo of their leaving the safety of the netting, but when I opened the top they fluttered out. When I turned to look back they were gone.  The third one sat a moment on the edge and vanished away.  Split Wing, the last butterfly, was last to think of leaving.  Finally, it too fluttered away as gracefully as any and went away in a peaceful flutter. Their photos here are when they are still resting on the bottom in their netting home.  Each took a last nourishment for its journey, a final sip from the orange slices and blossoms filled with sugar water. 

I see a tingle, over there along the graveyard gravel, inching through the spirit spaces, envy raging. Waking up a day ahead and a day before. A clay dream, cast in rolling hissing mud-stained patched up      cross-hatched yesterdays; trapped in the remnants of a horseshoe crab. Or do I wake up dreaming on a shore with lemon grass? Shining in the satin shallows Thriving in the seaweed Chasing marlin in blue waters Love cross-stitched across the morning Closing up the hallowed edges. Untermyer Fountain, French Conservancy Garden The sculpture came to Central Park in 1947 after the death of Samuel Untermyer. It is a cast of the original. Just how Untermyer acquired the sculpture from the Berlin original or had the cast made remains a mystery. ( The Official Website of Central Park )

There is a cold sting in the air, A fall day, maybe this one.  You and I are caught in circumstances,  Caught without a choice about the matter.  laughing without a reason Falling end over end  Torn away together.  The net is set.   The drawstring waits. 

Sunflower life cycle Sunflower being born

Love in the Conservancy Gardens Two Petunias in the South Garden

Hidden cove view of Central Park lake from --shhh it's a secret--way down south below the boathouse, deep into the brambly wilderness, near the place where Snowy Owl lives in winter