i pick up things that have died

i am in touch with nature.

the living and the dead.

i pick up things that have died.

with my hands.

like the cat, yesterday,

that lay in the center of buffalo street

with its head completely soaked in blood.

it had died hours before i found it,

cars and people having passed it by.

it was just shy of stiff

and i took it by the tail,

apologizing, apologizing

for its difficult death.

it was loved by someone.

  it existed.

  it mattered.

 so it went to the nearest lawn, gently.

i saw the color of blood, still wet,

on fur and asphalt~

the same color as black raspberries

just before they turn ripe.

and the dragonfly, also dead,

held lightly between my fingers.

i saw the cellophane wings

that shimmer the rainbow across

their panes when held to the light of the sun.

52 Photos Project~ July 27th

it fell apart in the heat on the way to the gathering.

(snort!)

as if that mattered.

"Chocolate" for 52 Photos Project

the black cat sings

The mischief maker, he's worried. Render of window screens,chewer of cardboard, destroyer of lamps~ his bravado flies out the tear in the screen when the carrier sits at the door, poised for entrapment to the vet.

He'll cry like a baby the whole way  there. He'll cry louder when we arrive. He'll scold me the whole way home.

But, no matter. I'll gladly take his fuss and live with his exuberant destruction.

He grounds me, you see, especially in times of trouble.

And these are times of trouble, filled with impending loss.

Yet, there is gain to be found in the small moments of each day~ the breeze and the pillars of clouds; the rabbit that hops close thinking I am part of the scene; the hummingbird that mistakes my pink shirt for a flower;  the cat~ at home once more, in a different window~ crying to me of his supposed neglect.

There is no trouble. Loss has not come. The black cat sings.

Tucked in to these moments~ the small, small moments~ gain and goodness abound.

The Bloom and The Interview

"I just got the summer issue of Soul in Bloom in the mail today.

Stunning! Whimsical! Inspiring! And that's just the photos! 

Can't wait to find some quiet time to spend with it.

Thank you again for your gift of creativity."

Cathy 

A heartfelt thank you to everyone who took a chance

on my summer issue of  The Soul In Bloom.

If you'd like a copy of your own,

you can find it HERE.

And the lovely Bella of 52 Photos Project

asked me to be her photography interview for the week!

I'm thrilled and honored. Thank you, Bella!

To read the interview, go HERE.

52 Photos Project~ July 20th

"The table at mealtime" for 52 photos project.

Of course, I'm cheating.

This is no table setting of the week for me.

No surface that has held my food of late

~ the floor, the counter top, the computer desk~

is worth documenting or sharing.

They're barely clean, those make-shift tables.

And what's so interesting about

carrots and blueberries and nuts?

No, let me cheat and show you a table

I dined at almost 2 years ago

on the edge of the Marmara sea.

A table that made a memory and held a fantasy

and changed the course of my days.

52 Photos Project~ July 13th

My new favorite summertime treat.

Bellowing bullfrogs and

sleeping alfresco at the edge of the lake.

I'm headed back for more.

For Bella's 52 Photos Project~ summertime treat.

blue and black

Again, it was morning.

There was me and my tea,

the birdsong and the ceiling of blue.

There were 8 crows and a ruckus,

and gravestones across the way.

There was death amid the already dead.

They were at it once more,

that heart-tugging ritual of sacrificing

another baby for their own.

It was a chipmunk or a rabbit

that was tormented and shredded

while a look-out stood watch from a stone.

I did not turn away.

I did not turn away.

It was morning.

The sky was blue

and the feathers were black

And there was life.

the way

The robin and me, we shared a succulent  breakfast in the early hours of the day. Black raspberries have taken root at the edge of the yard~ all their own doing~ and they have multiplied, as gifts from the gods tend to do. And gifts they be, each honey-combed berry morphing from green to red to eggplant purple. They are a burst of nectar on the tongue, said the robin. They are subtle sweetness. They are reward.

They are also the way, for they are nature, and nature leads should we humble ourselves to follow. The way is letting go, is releasing what has been to allow the birth of the next phase in the full cycle of life. The seed must let go of its casing in fertile ground. The bud must release itself to the bloom. The bloom must shed its beauty to bear fruit. The fruit must give forth its seed to fertile ground for the sake of the vine, the stalk and the tree.

It is the death of each phase that gives birth to the new. Holding a phase, a season, longer than the sun and the wind would advise leads only to stagnation and rot of potential, however safe it may feel to be held. In the letting go lies the gift. The next phase will be vastly different from the one before and will hold its own rare beauty in ways impossible to predict.

The robin, she knows of letting go and takes her rewards as they come. I will humble myself to follow and hold open my heart to the gifts of the seed, the bloom and the fruit.

52 Photos Project~ July 6th

 

What the garden revealed.

For Bella and her 52 Photos Project.

Lit on the 4th of July