I go to Inniswood Gardens because of the solitude it offers and the beautiful flowers. This beautiful flower’s name is Jamie and is one of my roommates. Beauty is all around us. Life is good!
My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, coffee life, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, spirituality and asking deep questions.
I go to Inniswood Gardens because of the solitude it offers and the beautiful flowers. This beautiful flower’s name is Jamie and is one of my roommates. Beauty is all around us. Life is good!
Our very brokenness allows us to become whole. “No one is a whole as he who has a broken heart.” said Rabbi Moshe Leib of Sasov. “Wholeness,” then, does not mean that the heart is not “broken.” that pain does not sear. To experience sadness,despair, tears, and howls of pain demonstrates not some violation or deficit of spirituality but rather the ultimate spirituality of acceptance. from The Spirituality of Imperfection by Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham
Today is my sisters birthday, so I want to say “Happy Birthday, Sheree!”
The last two days have been beautiful, clear cloudless skies, cool enough to wear a light fleece. This little daisy can easily be overlooked when walking by and they are quite plentiful. There are many varieties of white and yellow daisies so I’m not sure exactly which one this one is. For me that is not an issue as I think it is beautiful flower. I took this image a few days ago when it was overcast which gave me some really good light.
Some days I need and want extra therapy. There are those mornings when I need to take a little longer to stretch my muscles as the body ages. Or maybe the brain is fried, things seem fuzzy, disoriented, no energy or motivation. When mornings like this happen it’s time to head for one of the parks nearby with camera in hand. The sounds, smells, and of course the beauty of nature will invigorate the mind and body. Nature is a healer and teacher in my life. I’ll call it Nature Therapy.
While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us nothing more than what we see with our own eyes, there is another in which it proves to us how little our eyes permit us to see.
Dorothea Lange
I sure don’t sing very well. Practice would probably help but I doubt I could make a living at it. I would most likely loose a few friends if I sang too often. I also do not listen to much music since the radio in my car and my home stereo went “kaput.” I have an iphone but have not music on it. The music I enjoy at this place and time in life is sounds of nature: wind as it blows through trees, birds sining their morning song, water flowing in a stream, leaves crunching under foot, rain falling and even the quiet of snowfall.
But there is another enjoyable music in my life. I find at times while riding in my car or on a walk, that a song will rise up inside me and my spirit will quietly sing. There are those songs from the past, stored in my memory, that rise up and every once in a while a newly created song will flow forth. So when my spirit wants to sing, I do. It’s music from within, not from my ipod.