afternoon delight

...lounging on the veranda, the smell of chocolate chip deliciousness baking for afternoon tea, a lazy feeling in the air, the kind that comes after the frenzied drunken crowds from the annual Figawi Race go home leaving the leisurely behind to enjoy the quiet they missed while making such a ruckus...birds chirping their own call and response songs in unison with the hushed jazz floating across the air from somewhere behind the screen door …sipping iced coffee, condensation dripping down the plastic container…

...how very nice it is to read a book with nothing else but this to do and no one to answer to…

More from Nantucket on Sunday when it will all be a gorgeous memory to savor until I can return, until then…

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off time

It’s a long weekend away from the 9 to 5 for many of us. I sometimes wonder what people do with a day off, chuckle when I find out that there are others who choose to use it to clean out that closet we can’t seem to ever get to, tend to things that needed fixing months ago, or tackle whatever it is that has been neglected while we focused on all that requires more immediate attention…like making a living, taking care of family. Through a flurry of hilarious emails, I discovered that my friends are gardening, golfing, gliding along the highways on the back of a motorcycle this weekend despite the warm, humid temperature. The common thread between their words -- it’s great to be outdoors soaking up the beginning of the summer season doing something they love.

Taking a cue from my gal pals, I left the mess created last week as I pulled from the closet who knows how many boxes of shoes in search of sandals, donned some comfy white linen with complimentary silver jewels and headed out, camera in tow. For me, there is nothing more relaxing, gratifying than taking pictures (the perspiration rolled from under my hat as I stood patiently waiting to “get the shots”…sweet!).

Perhaps this Memorial Day weekend, you can let that whatever wait a little longer as you take some off time to do some thing that you enjoy on your day away from the everyday. And if you don’t know what that some thing is, then it’s well past time for you to find out, so go on and as you go…

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thinking

Long before I knew anything about Rodin’s Thinker, I had one up close and personal that I visited whenever I went to my grandparent’s home. Thinking back, I remember that I always made sure to pause at whatever table it rested on in each of the places my grandparents owned. I coveted this figurine that was quite heavy for a small person to pick up, lingered beside it transfixed as I studied the protruding mouth, wide nose, and well-defined finger groves. There was something comforting about the smooth, cool ebony metal, something intriguing about the bronze bracelet that brought movement and sound to the still object when I would gently slide it from the base to the wrist. To me it was so very beautiful and each time I walked away from my private meditation with her or him depending on how I viewed it on a particular visit, I hoped that one day it would be mine.

When my grandmother died, the statue went to live with my mother; though an adult, I found myself performing an admiration ritual similar to the one I began as a child only now I would always ask if I might take it to my home. This past weekend my wish came true!

Hard to believe that I never noticed the tiny etchings on the crown of the head that give the feel of hair, still can’t determine if it’s male or female. Of course, none of that matters as I think about the memories it evokes and wonder who in my family will be next in line to love it as much as I do.

It's the little things that mean so much and as you think about what little thing that might be for you, always...

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on the road again

Riding the rails this weekend as I travel between DC and NJ to celebrate my sister getting her PhD! Was way too exhausted to do the try to catch a good pic as the train rolled along like I’ve done so many times while riding the bus during my adventures. However, we did stop for a few moments to allow another train to pass, affording me a brief chance to see what might interest me outside my window without the possibility of blur…

Headed south back to my humble abode that I so love and miss when I’m gone. Can’t believe I’m not in the quiet car which is where I always park myself…kinda okay today actually since I'm so absorbed in playing around with my photographs AND have jazz quietly in my ear. Plus I'm seriously tickled by how unnerved the gentleman on the other side of the table is. Seems like he wanted four seats, the table between and the window views all to himself. Oh well, c'est la vie especially when we both paid to sit wherever we wished to plant our behinds.

Until Wednesday…

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individualism

One of my friends sent me a photograph taken with her I Phone that she dubbed as “uninteresting”…

I begged to differ…

We view what is in front of us from, come to a task with a unique perspective that is our very own. I don’t consider myself to be a painter feeling somewhat intimidated when the only medium provided for a project are acrylics. My creative voice prefers to speak in collage or photo and the desire to resort to my comfort zone only stunts my artistic growth. So rather than cut and paste my contribution to a group project I am participating in, I blotted and dabbed with enthusiastic individual expression!

Individualism truly keeps life quite interesting, which is one of the reasons why I always encourage you to…

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mother's day

Though we may not have physically given life to a precious one, we are all mothers in some capacity, at some moment in our lives. Wishing all hours of glorious bliss on this Mother’s Day Sunday!

As you go about your day...

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the more things change

....they don't always stay the same, see for yourself...

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blossoms of time

When the mood strikes me, I email an inspirational message or a simple greeting along with one of my photos to friends, family and associates. This past week, I sent the following note:

just one of the many lush blossoms of spring…may your day be as rich as the colors of this bloom

This small gesture not only lifts my spirits but also presents me with various responses especially in reference to the photographs I select to accompany my writing. One of my very close friends felt that this rose reminded her of a floating sundae. When I looked again, I saw creamy strawberry ice cream with chocolate shavings, maybe cookie crumbles. My older sister remarked, “She has freckles.” I had to chuckle about her comment because it made me think of our Grandmother who thought freckles were something to be had; she also liked ice cream (in fact, she called one of her birth marks an ice cream though to this day I don’t know why). When I gazed at these roses, to me those tiny round brown dots were their age spots; I thought they added to the loveliness of the flower, which made me take several pictures before I walked on feeling weirdly content.

As I downloaded the pictures, I understood what I was feeling -- flowers don’t fight aging, they embrace it unveiling a changed appearance that with each shift reveals something exquisite…brown spots, thin translucent petals, wrinkled wilting stems...gorgeous!

I’m becoming more sensitive to the changes in my own body, skin and hair as each year passes. Those around me notice no real difference as I watch a new me developing. Some days I don’t know what to think when I look into my mirror on the wall and don’t recognize the woman I saw just yesterday. The flowers I admire and capture serve as a reminder that no matter what age we are, we are still the fairest of them all, still lovely blossoms in whatever time period we are passing through, so...

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just duckie

A funny thing happened on the way to my office. After parking my car at a garage under a very busy business building near Capitol Hill, I went upstairs to wait for the shuttle that takes me to work, a familiar routine that I’ve repeated almost daily for many years now. The most I’ve seen out front are vehicles, pedestrians and cyclists in transit; it’s all so very mundane except for the flowers, trees and clothing that change with the seasons. But on that fine spring morning as I leisurely emerged from the building, walked up the steps to the sidewalk, there seemed to be nobody walking, very few cars or anyone else waiting for the shuttle. There was a tourist with a camera hovering around the pansy garden, funny because the flowers weren’t all that exciting. As I got closer, we exchanged pleasantries and then I saw them.

It was odd to see a pair of ducks on Mass Avenue, not a pond in sight. My silly self wondered if they had arrived at Union Station a few blocks up and waddled down to board the shuttle (I work at a hospital, were they going to visit a patient?) I giggled to myself as I snapped a few photos, careful not to disturb them. A few days later in a town an hour or so from the District, I happened upon another pair that upon first glance, had feathers similar to those on the ducks I had seen in Washington (cousins maybe?). The difference was only apparent in the male whose colors varied just a bit, the little black marking on his beak more striking and he looked like he was pissed at his chick who was completely ignoring his quacking from the sidewalk along the canal!

I used to wonder why the male in so many species of birds is adorned with color and other interesting features while the female is rather mundane. Now I laugh with envy knowing that those little women spend nary a moment fluffing up for attention -- looking good is men’s work, whether all that fuss is worth it is left up to the girls! We really could learn a few things from the creatures around us.

Hope your day is just duckie and as always…

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