This one is for all of the mothers out there, who certainly deserve at least a week's holiday and praise instead of one day! It is, however, in honor of the little mourning dove mother-to-be who sat patient and quiet (and probably petrified) as my family and I made a royal ruckus gardening in and around the porch that holds the hanging basket which she has made a home. Like all mothers, she is brave, dedicated, and at least a little bit crazy.
"God could not be everywhere and therefore He made mothers." - Jewish proverb
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
Nature Quote - May 8, 2009
The blythe breeze of a May day is both the delight and the demon of a nature photographer, even more so that of one specializing in close ups. Friday is my photography day (Monday is for Marketing, Wednesday is for Website Work) and it is just windy enough to keep the already high Gulf Coast temperature bearable. . .and just windy enough to make everything that I want to shoot dance, shimmy, and wave instead of holding still. So I took a break and came in to find an appropriate quote. Instead, I found two:
"Rough winds to shake the darling buds of May." - William Shakespeare
(Now, we all know that this is not a literal statement, but still, the Bard hit my dilemma right on the head.)
"A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache." - Catherine II
Now back out to indulge that imagination. A May breeze and a little time outside are also quite good for blowing indoor-office-induced cobwebs right out of your head.
http://www.worldofcolorphotography.com
"Rough winds to shake the darling buds of May." - William Shakespeare
(Now, we all know that this is not a literal statement, but still, the Bard hit my dilemma right on the head.)
"A great wind is blowing, and that gives you either imagination or a headache." - Catherine II
Now back out to indulge that imagination. A May breeze and a little time outside are also quite good for blowing indoor-office-induced cobwebs right out of your head.
http://www.worldofcolorphotography.com
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Nature Quote - May 7, 2009
"The best remedy for those who are afraid, lonely or unhappy is to go outside, somewhere where they can be quiet, alone with the heavens, nature and God. Because only then does one feel that all is as it should be and that God wishes to see people happy, amidst the simple beauty of nature." - Anne Frank
An amazing quote made even more stunning by the fact that it was written by a young girl who could not go outside at all. Made me take a deep breath and say a prayer of thanks for the beauty I find every day right on my own doorstep, in my front yard, all over my small town and even beneath my feet.
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
An amazing quote made even more stunning by the fact that it was written by a young girl who could not go outside at all. Made me take a deep breath and say a prayer of thanks for the beauty I find every day right on my own doorstep, in my front yard, all over my small town and even beneath my feet.
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Mourning Dove
This morning while I was making toast and coffee, I looked out onto our porch and noticed a mourning dove in one of our hanging baskets. The basket is planted with an asparagus fern, but apparently there's still enough room for two mourning doves (the second popped its head up right after I saw the first) and, I hope hope hope, a nest! In their honor, I've selected this as today's Nature Quote:
"Everything on the earth has a purpose, every disease an herb to cure it, and every person a mission." - Mourning Dove, a member of the Native American Salish tribe
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
"Everything on the earth has a purpose, every disease an herb to cure it, and every person a mission." - Mourning Dove, a member of the Native American Salish tribe
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Sultry
After yesterday's pouring rain, today dawned golden and bright, with the morning sun making crystals of the raindrops still held on the plants' leaves and petals. It was absolutely breathtaking.
And then I stepped outside.
And quickly discovered air so thick with moisture that I, in fact, might have had trouble breathing because (silly me) I'm not accustomed to breathing underwater.
When they reported the weather as "humid" this morning, I believe our Gulf Coast weathermen were either making the most outrageous understatement in meteorological history, or playing rather tasteless joke on all of us. Had they wanted to get out the true story and warn the public properly, they would have put up a little image of a steam room with skull and crossbones over it and the warning caption "Do not go outside if you've a) forgotten deodorant or b) bothered to put on makeup or c) mind sweating through every stitch of clothing you're wearing."
And all of this was plainly obvious from just my first breath.
My second inhalation told me that it wasn't just moisture in the air, but moisture carrying the heady scent of every blooming flower in a five mile radius. Most close to home, the jasmine in full bloom scented the air with the essence of the sultry South.
There was no doubt about it - refreshed by yesterday's long, cool shower, nature had put on her perfume, unfurled her petals, and declared herself ready to mingle.
No less obvious than the haughty humans in a nightclub, all of the local wildlife is strutting its stuff and on the prowl for possible procreation opportunities.
How apropos, then, that today the local procreation poster children arrived: the "lovebugs".
Lovebugs (Plecia nearctica) are also called honeymoon flies or kissy bugs. They fly around attached to one another but, unlike that last nickname might suggest, they are not attached at the mouth.
For the next four weeks, the air will be full of paired lovebugs finding satisfaction in flight. Love on the fly. Or, rather, love on the wing of the fly.
And those of us that live here will heartlessly crush unknown millions of these diminutive duos as we zip from here to there in our cars (and sometimes on our bicycles - a lovebug couple in the face will pretty much ruin a ride, in case you were wondering).
Caught up in the heady perfume of the season, the copulating couples will meet life's windshield together. Sad, it's true, but not a bad way to go out.
At least they get to escape the humidity.
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
And then I stepped outside.
And quickly discovered air so thick with moisture that I, in fact, might have had trouble breathing because (silly me) I'm not accustomed to breathing underwater.
When they reported the weather as "humid" this morning, I believe our Gulf Coast weathermen were either making the most outrageous understatement in meteorological history, or playing rather tasteless joke on all of us. Had they wanted to get out the true story and warn the public properly, they would have put up a little image of a steam room with skull and crossbones over it and the warning caption "Do not go outside if you've a) forgotten deodorant or b) bothered to put on makeup or c) mind sweating through every stitch of clothing you're wearing."
And all of this was plainly obvious from just my first breath.
My second inhalation told me that it wasn't just moisture in the air, but moisture carrying the heady scent of every blooming flower in a five mile radius. Most close to home, the jasmine in full bloom scented the air with the essence of the sultry South.
There was no doubt about it - refreshed by yesterday's long, cool shower, nature had put on her perfume, unfurled her petals, and declared herself ready to mingle.
No less obvious than the haughty humans in a nightclub, all of the local wildlife is strutting its stuff and on the prowl for possible procreation opportunities.
How apropos, then, that today the local procreation poster children arrived: the "lovebugs".
Lovebugs (Plecia nearctica) are also called honeymoon flies or kissy bugs. They fly around attached to one another but, unlike that last nickname might suggest, they are not attached at the mouth.
For the next four weeks, the air will be full of paired lovebugs finding satisfaction in flight. Love on the fly. Or, rather, love on the wing of the fly.
And those of us that live here will heartlessly crush unknown millions of these diminutive duos as we zip from here to there in our cars (and sometimes on our bicycles - a lovebug couple in the face will pretty much ruin a ride, in case you were wondering).
Caught up in the heady perfume of the season, the copulating couples will meet life's windshield together. Sad, it's true, but not a bad way to go out.
At least they get to escape the humidity.
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
Monday, May 4, 2009
Nature Quote - May 4, 2009
We had an absolute deluge today! I got soaked to the skin and don’t have to water the plants for a week. Fantastic! In that vein, here’s a wonderful quote I found:
“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.” ~John Ruskin
View vibrant nature in sunshine, rain, wind, and frost at http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
“Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.” ~John Ruskin
View vibrant nature in sunshine, rain, wind, and frost at http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
Are you listening?
My daughter is learning about the five senses this week in daycare. She seems especially focused on hearing. She's always been one to ask "What's that sound," but now she's more attentive to subtler sounds. Listening to the world with her, mentally borrowing her fresh, young ears has got me thinking about this awesome sense - how much we use it subconsciously and how much we ignore the wonders it can bring us.
I think we ignore our hearing sometimes because we live in such a noisy world; right now I'm sitting in my office, listening to the clickety-clack of my fingers on the keyboard, my home's A/C air intake, and the ridiculously loud tick-tock of the clock on the wall. I would classify the latter two of the three sounds as moderately annoying.
I know I'm not the only one who sometimes gets the feeling that you'd like to have a mute button for life. Or at least the ability to tell all noise (not just toddlers and husbands, but splashing dishwashers and buzzing microwaves and TV commercials featuring overly-excited salesmen who've obviously been told that product sales are directly related to the volume of their voices) to "Shhhhhh!"
I think all of the noise we have to filter through all day makes us tired. It's just too much input.
On the other hand, when I throw open my office window, the sounds I hear make me at once excited, intrigued, and peaceful. Come to think of it, hang on, I'll open that window right now. . .
Okay, the first thing I hear kind of detracts from the point - it's the morning traffic on the mildly major road we live right next to. (Here's a piece of free advice: if you can avoid it, don't buy the model home that's at the beginning of a subdivision, right next to a mildly major road.)
Ah, but now here comes the reward. Above the traffic I hear the peeping of baby birds in my neighbor's live oak tree. I hear the rumble and crackle of distant thunder, warning of the approaching storm.
And, somehow, these sounds are changed by the high humidity and still air. It sounds like a rainy day even though the rain hasn't made it here yet.
I hear the quiet cheeps of mourning doves and the trills of titmice and chickadees who frequent my bird feeder.
These nature sounds make me breathe deeper, relax my tensed shoulders, close my eyes and pay attention to all of my less-used senses. They all deserve some positive input.
When the rain comes, I'll give them a treat by going outside, feeling the rain on my upturned palms and tasting the big, fresh drops on my tongue. I'll see the rain and let my eyes focus on the middle distance. (These eyes do a lot of focusing and examining for my macro photos, they deserve a break.) And, breathing deeply, I'll smell the ozone created by the lightning and the loveliness of wet leaves and forest floors.
Then I'll really have something to tell my daughter about. She is an excellent listener.
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
I think we ignore our hearing sometimes because we live in such a noisy world; right now I'm sitting in my office, listening to the clickety-clack of my fingers on the keyboard, my home's A/C air intake, and the ridiculously loud tick-tock of the clock on the wall. I would classify the latter two of the three sounds as moderately annoying.
I know I'm not the only one who sometimes gets the feeling that you'd like to have a mute button for life. Or at least the ability to tell all noise (not just toddlers and husbands, but splashing dishwashers and buzzing microwaves and TV commercials featuring overly-excited salesmen who've obviously been told that product sales are directly related to the volume of their voices) to "Shhhhhh!"
I think all of the noise we have to filter through all day makes us tired. It's just too much input.
On the other hand, when I throw open my office window, the sounds I hear make me at once excited, intrigued, and peaceful. Come to think of it, hang on, I'll open that window right now. . .
Okay, the first thing I hear kind of detracts from the point - it's the morning traffic on the mildly major road we live right next to. (Here's a piece of free advice: if you can avoid it, don't buy the model home that's at the beginning of a subdivision, right next to a mildly major road.)
Ah, but now here comes the reward. Above the traffic I hear the peeping of baby birds in my neighbor's live oak tree. I hear the rumble and crackle of distant thunder, warning of the approaching storm.
And, somehow, these sounds are changed by the high humidity and still air. It sounds like a rainy day even though the rain hasn't made it here yet.
I hear the quiet cheeps of mourning doves and the trills of titmice and chickadees who frequent my bird feeder.
These nature sounds make me breathe deeper, relax my tensed shoulders, close my eyes and pay attention to all of my less-used senses. They all deserve some positive input.
When the rain comes, I'll give them a treat by going outside, feeling the rain on my upturned palms and tasting the big, fresh drops on my tongue. I'll see the rain and let my eyes focus on the middle distance. (These eyes do a lot of focusing and examining for my macro photos, they deserve a break.) And, breathing deeply, I'll smell the ozone created by the lightning and the loveliness of wet leaves and forest floors.
Then I'll really have something to tell my daughter about. She is an excellent listener.
http://www.worldofcolorgallery.com
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