Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

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.

There is an advantage of having Blue as the New Red and Green. It suits the chilled evening wanderers, as they go passing through an epiphany. East 58th Street, New York, 2013 (Taken with iPhone)

Marcus Garver Park after the first snowstorm 120th and Fifth Avenue, Manhattan 120th and Fifth Avenue, Manhattan

Our Average Winter Tree, near the Metropolitan Museum of Art is preparing itself for another incredible explosion in -- Let's see, what was that color?

One night among the stars I saw you coming, But Asteroid arrived and pulled you from me. Of course I cannot follow, I have an orbit of my own.

Did you feel that? That tiny nibble on the edge of things, that quiet bzzz on the very tip of an upper rib... I love these skinny days in March! I shun that awful April thaw, that happy May, those shiny days of June. I crave dull, pencil-shredded nights and sleeted mornings, frozen with muddy footprints marking off the year, those tripping ruts and deadly shallows. How dare you sting me with the sun.

At certain times in a particular light, would-be solid substances begin to dance.   They are creating shadow ripples in the space-time continuum.

 When times get tough, the best thing to do is take out your magnifying glass... Twigs Against Fifth Avenue

Late winter meets early spring in Central Park near 96th Street

What responsibilities fall upon these sturdy limbs Nourishing the fragile, hibernating twigs Buoying up a traveling winter squirrel. Hard trunks: rough, bent, creased and full of rings, with spring hanging in the balance.

Golden Winter Berries, near Squiva's hangout South of the Metroplitan, Squiva appears to be on location.  Florida perhaps? However, we ran across some of his students the other day. We're negotiating the rights to post the photos from the National Union of the Squirrel.

I crossed this snowy foot-printed path and I followed along for a ways. I’ve seen a few trails and tales of grails so I thought that one of these days I’d follow the scent just see where they went and to fend off my certain malaise. They leapt and skipped and galloped and still I scampered along with an icy thrill, when at once they ceased with a swirl in the snow. What destiny fell them, I’ll never know. I conceived a great leap to foil a hawk a hidden burrow a sheltering rock-- Still now and then when we walk that way I pause at the spot and remember the day When that prescient malaise began fading away

There’s something about a Magic Tree that moves beyond complexity. I see a trunk of an aging tree, but it’s not so simple as that you see. Is that shivering twig an omen to be? Did that gnarly limb reach out at me? Did that twig-finger point surreptitiously? Did you see that specter phantom sigh? Or was that a figment of the eye? Yet look over there in the crook of a branch Do you see that wish with a second chance? That hollow near the warty burl, Is that a hibernating squirrel? Look over at that thing on the right, I think I see an inner light! And near that fork with the melting snow, There’s a shelter for those with no place to go. There’s a landing pad in the upper right, Where a passing raven might rest for the night. And if you wander nearby on your way, there’s a hollow of magic just waiting to say, The thing you need most to hear that day. Then one day by the fire when it's time to recover, you’ll find a small sliver of something or othe...

Afternoon sun lights up the Central Park street lamps.   101st Street, in from 5th Avemue

Squiva was so busy with modelling jobs during the holiday season that there was really no time to say hello.  Things are quieting down somewhat, and Squiva let me take this picture.  Actually, another photographer was paying the fee, but Squiva decided it would be all right for us to print this surreptitious photo.  "After all" said Squiva, "I might just be climbing a tree because I'm climbing a tree."   See how beautiful and round Squiva has become for winter? 

Thank goodness for all our blessing arrows tossed to this brave young sapling, for our hardy optimist stayed strong all through his second summer. Hardy is preparing for his winter sleep, as his fall sap sinks deep into his chilly roots for safekeeping.  South Reservoir Blockhouse, Eastside (2010 November)

Here we have an ordinary tree, perhaps a little narrow here and there, relaxing near a fence.  Yet, we look a little closer and notice the truly horrifying bumps.  What could they be?  What  purpose do they perform?  Is it simply an ugly tree, and might we plant a newer, prettier one?   Well, we'll wait a little while and see...