Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Light guides us into spring, protecting the last fall leaves.

Boulder watching over the First Snowdrops of the year.

There is nothing quite as captivating as a Late Winter MudPuddle, preparing for spring, and with a walking Tree !

Robin, Robin Redbreast, where art thou? "I’m sitting in a tree but I don’t know how; I ended up here on this limb somehow." You flew around and landed there as simple as can be. "You’re very funny so they say, but why me instead of thee?" You silly bird I’ll tell you why, It’s difficult for me to fly, But you have feathers and wings and things! "I do? Oh my Gosh! Are these things wings?" Central Park Magnolia Tree Getting Ready for Spring Addendum from Vera A. of Denver Standing tall upon the crest, greeting Spring - Robin redbreast. Looking regal, fat and firm Scanning for a nice March worm. Gingerly testing out his skill. Can I still do the robin trill? What a voice! You're right on track. We're so glad to see you back.

There’s a secret self inside me hidden, dry as tinder, waiting for the fuse to spark. Lighting up the ancient networks finding dreams as bright as the day they were born.

Oh Winter Sun, where art Thou? Thou art Missing! Oh Spring Thaw, why art Thee not nipping at my frozen Roots? 'Tis nigh on March! Art thou Shy? Harlem Meer in February 2013 For the likely derivation of this scale, see Fahrenheit, The Straight Dope

Jogger unaware he is falling off the edge of the earth Central Park Reservoir

Aching and desiring Shivering into a thawing crack Playing a hide and seeking game Pushing out and holding back. Frozen and burning in the winter fire Spinning and breaking from the inside out Counting on another spring To conjure and decipher what it’s all about.

These are the fallow days, mustard seeds in the planning stages, an applecore tossed into a fertile heap, spring sleeping underground and unaware, resolution makers vowing one more year to rearrange the miracle.

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.