Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

Here at the last possible moment, our hardy photographer takes courage and leaps between two snow-covered and sleeping autoverines. The camera flies up in a perfect arc and bounces off the face of the Charging Autoverine. Stunned and awed, it swerves, slipping and sliding on down the hill leaving behind a path of destruction. Quietly the photographer creeps away from the sleeping autoverines and retrieves the icy camera. With a still steady hand, our brave hero takes this parting shot of the Fleeing Autoverine

It's winter now, and the traveling routes and habitats of the local indigenous life are shrinking. Not uncommon in these dire times are the scary encounters among the peace loving sidewalk dwellers and the treacherous Foraging Autoverines native to the inner cities. This terrifying photograph was taken by a brave photographer who was driven away from her normal shooting grounds by a recent winter storm.

A snow-draped tree attempts to disguize an inorganic (plastic, shhhh) salt spreader

It's another snowing February day, and I cannot resist the memory of a crescendo of gates.  A Crescendo of Gates (Jane C.)

I had a day with so many disparate activities to do, one after the other.  None of them involved going to a park or even a mudpuddle.  I did take a taxi and a bus and a train and a purposeful walk.  Somehow, it's just not the same.  D id I accomplish something?  What an unusual question.  I know who accomplished something, and it's  whoever made it over this fence, that's who!

80 second long....that's short! Posted by : foozooljalal July 08, 2009 Perpetual Jazzile - Africa this group is using their hands to simulate rain and thunder sound Senior Moment Video from untrackable source! Music from Windows Sample Music folder: Ludwig van Beethoven, composer. Seattle Symphony. Gerard Schwarz, director, Beethoven: Symphonies Nos. 5 & 9 "Choral"; Piano Concerto No. 5 "Emperor" Disc 1 http://windowsmedia.com/mediaguide/albuminfo/albuminfo.asp?Partner=Dell Computer Corporation&locale=409&version=9.0.0.4507&a_id=R%20%20%20688737

My favorite trees growing up were the 2 adjacent catalpas as we walked to school. We so often pulled off a seed pod for swords or staffs or wands or other rods our imaginations were requiring. Do you remember them? Now I have a huge catalpa tree in my front yard. Daddy and I planted it together when it was a spindly 7' tall and about 3" in diameter. I think of him every time I see my beloved tree. But mine is a female Western Catalpa, so it blooms a magnificent clump of delightfully sweet-smelling, pale orchid-like blossoms that shroud the tree for about 10 days. It is magnificent. Cut the blossoms and bring them inside and they barely last at all; they are meant to adorn the tree for the few short days in summer. About two summers ago there were 3 unknown children in my yard harvesting swords. They seemed a bit skittish. In memory (and defiance) of our childhood churlish neighborhood adult, I went outside and told them they were welcome to have as many as they liked, an

What I love about trees is that we all have one or two particular ones that belong to us. Yet this information often lies hidden near the soul. Our mission today is to find the nearest Likely Human Candidate.  Approach your Candidate with a pencil and a clipboard, although a notebook will do.  Holding the pencil at the ready, inquire: "Excuse me, I was wondering.  What was your favorite tree growing up?" (Now we need to wait for an answer.  This is the hard part, but do not skimp.) . One- one thousand, Two- one thousand  Carefully scribble down the answer, and thank your Likely Candidate.   You might need to offer a word of encouragement. Be prepared to improvise, since your Candidate may wish to carry on. Congratulations ,    we have just shared a precious splash of childhood.

Lots of people think of Bill when they hear Gates, but not me.  Remember the orangy-yellow dancing  gates, stiching their way  through Central Park?  They froliced in the February snow and wind and then hung quietly, waiting for a puff.  We could see a breeze march its way down the Harlem Hill, past the reservour and the dormant gardens, through the rambles and over the lawns.  We could feel the weather passing by,  lifting a spirit, almost like a summer rain.  Central Park, furled And then, The Gates, Christo and Jeanne-Claude, February 2005.

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...

I almost missed it, pre-occupied as I was. . Nothing fast enough for me! Right, left, scratch and skid. Damn snow. Who's in charge, and where's the salt? I have some thoughts to mull about and very little time. Move over! I hunkered at the corner curb to watch my step, and in that pause, I paid attention.  And look what I got for my money.

While on a recent wander in the local museum, I observed these two great ladies held captive by an unseen entity in the upper  middle distance. 

I have wet mittens, but it is so worth it! Initials on Car hood & windshield

Can you resist a car window covered with newly fallen snow? Feel your mittens drawing your initials in a snowy heart. What fun! Remember icy crystal frost on the window panes, and snow flakes trapped in the screen? The sounds are muffled now, but wait for the sharp blue-white sounds tomorrow in the sunny cold.

Isn't it nice to remember New York is the greatest city in the world

There I was again, out in the cold afternoon looking for the perfect puddle. I might have been Sherlock with a magnifying glass, when I took a slight misstep... crunch. crunch? Yes! Sightly soggy sounding, but definitely and none the less a crunch. There it was! The perfect sounding puddle right beneath my toe. Can you hear it?

Our magic tree is sleeping, since it's deep in winter. The new and nascent buds for spring have passed through the planning stage and are definitely under development. Personally I know that magic loves a hollow tree. Do you wonder where it comes from, once in a while? I do. Then s uddenly a flutter tumbles by and settles on a happy twig, and there occurs a tiny welcome sparkle. Can you feel it?

A side glance takes me to this field of weeds, clearly designed to reflect the small amber tree.

Hello, this is a guest photo, isn't it beautiful? [by Chestnut ParkBy AGott26909 Cardinal and ...]

All trees are beautiful, but I admit I have my favorites. This planetree is the oldest tree in Central Park, and some say the largest. Here it is, lean and straight boned, wearing winter greys and blue sky.