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Southern Colorado

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Time swept you away, and I am left with beauty. Somewhere near South Park, Southern Colorado

Southern Colorado

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Time swept you away, and I am left with beauty. Somewhere near South Park, Southern Colorado

Promises Wait for Another New Day

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The midnight sky is stuffed with moonlight, but you wouldn’t know it from the afternoon, filled with grey rain along the edges. Two figures walk along the empty road, foreground vivid with the here and now, while the vanishing point draws relentless close. What destinies wait behind that grey horizon, waiting for the early sun to polish up those dreams we left for dead the night before. .

On Shakespeare and flora

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Would a Rose of Sharon smell as sweet  If it were named a hollyhock? From the new Garden at Cooper Hewitt Museum, Smithsonian Design Museum

The Gold of Life

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What will happen to my soul when you are gone? Will I tack it to a wall in a makeshift frame? Reservoir, late evening in July

Ounce Takes A Bath

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Ounce has developed a Characteristic that is not altogether happy.  Ounce does not like to share. We know already how much Ounce Loves water.  But look how the entire bathbowl is, in the opinion of Ounce, reserved for sole occupancy.  Of course Ounce finaly gives up and flees! Our amazing photo-journalist has captured this revealing video.  Click the play arrow, and then click the squarish thing on the bottom right of the video for Full Screen!  Don't forget to come back.... \ If all else fails, click on the link below https://youtu.be/Oe6jyvQ_Dlc

The Pigeon Chronicles

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The Pidgeon Chronicles, Missive IV Perhaps you missed missives I-III, I know I did [See Footnote]. Nevertheless, I am here to report I have suffered enough! As an Urban Volunteer, I embarked on my annual Tree Bed planting obligation, and I completed my task 11 days ago: Plant shade-adoring impatiens: Done! Plant with a growing moon: Done! Plant in loose soil: Done! Water and fertilize well: Done! Plant 6 inches apart: Done! By now there should be happy buds and a few new blooms. But No! I have simply watched the existing blossoms wane away with the waxing moon. Well!Later that same afternoon I discovered  Pigeon sitting on one impatiens and nibbling on another . Stricken, I yelled and shooed. Pigeon moved a few inches. I flapped and waved, and that Very Pigeon hopped to my next tree bed over! I ran indoors to notify the Pigeon Police, but by the time they arrived with the net, that Very Pigeon was gone. Well, this happened three times in a row, and now the

A bubblegum World

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Time shattered that day, when I saw through a crack, another teaming, seething, crystal world, (I was stuck on my usual side) It was a   bubblegum world, with grassy places, trees awake with new leaves, old limbs fading with the death of winter, Look, There’s a beauty!   Boughs swinging in the windy sun, searching for a new spring nest.   

A Puddle full of Petals

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I was skidding through another concrete day Shoes hitting hard against the sidewalk grey Sharp shards snapping at the stopped up drain White sun spitting at a window pane Background rattle of a subway train. Then I turned the corner and astonishingly I see the floating remnants of a cherry tree.

The Joyful and Delicate Dance of Spring !

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5th Avenue Draped in Spring Mist

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The day before rain

A blossom covered day

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TWEET!!  Is that the same dull winter sparrow bursting with life like a happy bud? Is that me, with clumps of spirit blossoms resting in my hand? Me, with a new leaf painted in my soul? Reservoir April 2016

On Making Deliveries in Snow

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Jiggity, Jaggity Jergety,  hoo! I’m bringing a pizza to you, to you. There’s ice, there’s snow No safe place to go I’m lost in the fog I’m stuck with this job I’m trapped out at night I’m getting frost-bite I’m ready to sob I’m too old for this job!! The pizza is cold. You’ll have to be told  You’ll have nothing to eat I can’t find your street! I just want to go back to Peru, Peru I want to go back to Peru!

Jane Cecil ~ A profile in pictures & poetry

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Discovering a Different Fall

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I wander through the apple shadows, stepping into the secret garden Fall chrysanthemums are stiff with color Grasses are drying their stalks for winter Is that an orangy goldfish there or a patched up dappled catfish? Either way, I let it sink amid the leaves and lilies. I close my eyes and feel a quiet melting in my frozen solar plexus I may have dozed, I'm never sure A puddle full of splashing sparrows wakes me up. There's something familiar about that tweet! “Ounce?” "Ounce!" “You’re wet and cold! you’ll catch a chill!" Come here!“ I don’t know what made me scold that way It’s just I miss Ounce so and didn’t even know it. Embarrassed by my burst, I try to slink away, when I feel a small wet weight upon my shoulder -- “Ouch! You bit me!" Before I can move a retaliatory inch Ounce settles down for a soggy shoulder nap, and There isn’t anything else to do Except to take a leafy walk in the golden speckled afternoon.

The Myth of the stranded wheel

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It was one of those delicious days when the sun lit up the soul. I was skipping along on my favorite path, when I chanced upon a something in the road before me. So of course I stopped to make sure it wasn’t an endangered species. Well! One poke  told me I should be wary. I heard a sharp squeaky growl and felt a nip on my toe. I knew then it had to be an omen; you do not get stopped with a nip on the road for no reason at all. Growl wobbled over to the edge of the path, and of course I had to follow. We were at a clearing in the underbrush guarded by a low pile of nature-hewn rocks. I reached down to carry Growl, who gave me a parting nip on the finger and disappeared in a tiny whoosh. Nevertheless, I picked my way over the rocky pile and fell into a divided world. I wanted to go right with all my might, where the colors were tipped and burnished with life, yet there I was inexorably heading towards the left-most shadow lands. Deeper and deeper I journeyed, and there in

A Fountain Full of Fractals

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Fractals! They’re those never-ending patterns that “display self-similarity…in all scales”. In mathematics, a self-similar object is exactly or approximately similar to a part of itself.* Is there no rest for the self-centered? Do you want to know how to be a fractal? Just do the same stupid thing over and over! And this rainbow we are talking about. There is the very same self-similar rainbow in each tiny droplet and packet of drops and fountain of drops! And there you have the essence of it; the soul of it if you will. The rainbow, in fact,  is immortal. Do you remember how to discover a rainbow? First locate body of water (a dew drop will do). Position yourself between the drop and the sun, and sooner or later there it will be. Of course it’s been there all along. A soul waiting for the right circumstances. Fractal Fountain in the Italian Garden of the Conservancy; Central Park *Somewhere on the web…

The Secret Mourning Dove

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Mourning Dove rests at evening in the Secret Garden sparrow pool Mourning Dove in Secret Garden

A Popsickle Day

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Once upon a time, long before now, When the grass was as green as a lollypop~ Off we went down the sidewalk edge, looking for a piece of eternity. It was a popsicle day, With trees saturated in summer~ Sidewalks so hot you needed shoes, You could fry an egg if you wanted, they said. We were warned of course, about crossing the street, We were threatened, coerced and cautioned~ Of course we crossed it anyway, As we scattered away that diamond day.

Fall Day

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Off to school with sharpened promises. Seeking a simple space reserved for me. Oh how I wished and waited, loved and prayed. May I have a pleasant dream, a morning full of breezes? Now and then a glance my way, shooting light through a hidden shard. How I wanted to pursue you-- Where was that spark inside my soul, Whispering through the painted leaves-- “I love you” “You can count on me”