An online journal sharing my interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, spirituality and asking deep questions.
given a new day
ms
accepting the gift offered
feel special again
If you look close you will see an eagle perched atop the tree on the left. A half dozen or more eagles have been hanging around these trees on the east side of town for the past few weeks. A large cement plant has been moved so there is now a large gravel pit partially drained which has allowed for the gift of easier fishing for the eagles. I wonder if this eagle feels special.
eyes of the heart
ms
accepting the gift offered
shadow and lines
Sunny, windy afternoon walk with my camera in Old Town this past weekend. Not much time on the streets this past year, preferring to spend my time within nature. Shadow and lines was the gift received this day. It is 10 degrees this morning, overcast skies and a snowflake ❄ is seen every once in a while. Stay warm!
“Only the blindness of habit convinces us that we continue to live in the same place, that we see the same landscape.”
John O’Donohue
Had an early meeting at Pineridge Natural Area with God, a few magpies, low clouds on the eastern horizon, silence and a cup of coffee to keep my hands warm. I watched nature put on a beautiful show of colors that helped keep me warm in the 15 degree cold. As O’Donohue suggests as long as I do not stay in a place of the blindness of my habits the landscape will provide something new for me to experience, and that is a gift. I stayed until the sun rose above the clouds and my hands and feet were cold. Have a great day and stay warm.
Fascinating, clouds on the horizon
causing me to stop, to feel them deeply
within, yet so far in the distance.Such power visible on the canvas sky
hail, rain, thunder, lightning
forever playing with color and form.With awe, I watch the creator create
while I, a child caught in enchantment
accepting this gift of wonder.ms
Happy Birthday, Sheree. You are such a gift of wonder! I love you! ❤️
I remember the cold winter mornings I would cut a slice mom’s homemade bread, toasting it in this exact toaster and smothering it in “real” butter. Well, mom made her homemade bread before we arrived for Thanksgiving. As expected I cut a slice about as thick as it would fit in the toaster and drowned it in butter. I mentioned how impressed I was that the toaster was still working. Dad then informed it was one of their wedding gifts which makes is almost 68 years old. I made toast every morning I was there. 🙂