BUTTERFLY (WPC: Focus)

  Yesterday, I was following my husband and children on their way to the woods to shoot some balloons. Formage, Grandpa’s mythical pet, was having a birthday party according to Grandpa and the children were supposed to join in the fun. While I was trying to catch up with the children who happened to be

THE AGE OF WONDERS (WPC: Magic)

That moment when I caught him watching leaves falling from the trees and reaching out with his little arms That moment when I saw him snapping a hawkweed flow’r from its stem and staring at it laying on his hand for however long that moment when he looks at me his lips parting into a

LITTLE RED CABOOSE (WPC: Tiny)

Toys sit in the bins in disarray, moldy and sad the hands that caressed them are never around the mind that send them to wondrous tours no longer turned nor propelled their gears The tracks have been broken there are no more tickets to neverland Toys and child have reached that most dreaded time –

ODE TO A DEAD POND (WPC: Transmogrify)

Once swans glided on your surface while watchful clouds hovered above Canadian Geese honked their presence squirrels skittered in the nearby grove Your benches hosted lovers’ trysts and gave solace to distraught souls on the shore, gulls gobbled the feast – breadcrumbs kids tore from moldy loaves. In deep winter your frozen pond held children

PURE

Crystalline waters reflecting mirrors of light so is a pure heart Whispering wind Quickens the spirit breath of life Scented breeze We breathe deeply the scent of pure souls. WPC:  Pure

LOVE IN THE OPEN HAND (for WPC)

This picture of my son reminds me of these lines from Edna St. Vincent-Millay’s poem, Love in the Open Hand – Love in the open hand, no thing but that, Ungemmed, unhidden, wishing not to hurt, As one should bring you cowslips in a hat Swung from the hand, or apples in her skirt, I

A MOTHER’S LOVE

“If only my baby can stay little. Here on my lap, he sits engaging me in his childish play,” dreams a mother half out of her wits by her kids who would throw fits once and again. “What a comedy,” she might say after the moment flits by. Right now all’s a tragedy to her

WPC: LINES AND PATTERNS

It’s all about Lines, Shapes, Textures, or Patters at the Weekly Photo Challenge this week. Here are some pictures I have which, I think, respond to the prompt. Nature offers all in a variety of ways. For instance, a leaf has its own unique lines and shape that make it distinguishable from all other leaves.

WPC: SEA

Rolling, thundering waters breaking prison walls paradise reclaimed. This is the Atlantic Ocean as seen from Schoodic Point, Acadia National Park.   I have presented a black and white version of some photos and wrote a little about our trip in early August here. For more pictures of the sea, please visit Weekly Photo Challenge:

SOME WISHFUL THINKING

I have long stopped making new year’s resolutions because I’d forget about them soon after I made them. That I do not make any resolution, however, does not mean that I have no desire to make myself or my life better. It is best not to wait a year before one takes stock of one’s