Wet macro flowers

Happy Easter 2011!

BethEaster2011 003, a photo by Mal Dog on Flickr.

Orange is the new pink!
Check out all my new macro tulip pictures,
visit my photostream on Flickr.

First Snow

This is the kind of stuff that inspires poetry, but I'm a little brain dead this weekend, so I'll let it inspire it in other people.

Visit my garden!

The Buzz

Herd Of Buffalo Crossing The Missouri On Ice
William Matthews

If dragonflies can mate atop the surface tension
of water, surely these tons of bison can mince
across the river, their fur peeling in strips like old

wallpaper, their huge eyes adjusting to how far
they can see when there's no big or little bluestem,
no Indian grass nor prairie cord grass to plod through.

Maybe because it's bright in the blown snow
and swirling grit, their vast heads are lowered
to the gray ice: nothing to eat, little to smell.

They have their own currents. You could watch a herd
of running pronghorn swerve like a river rounding
a meander and see better what I mean. But

bison are a deeper, deliberate water, and there will
never be enough water for any West but the one
into which we watch these bison carefully disappear.

Today was the most beautiful day of the year

This may be my favorite time of year. Temps in the 60's, glorious mostly sunny skies, soft breeze, just enough humidity. Granted, there are fewer and fewer flowers, but the ones that are left are even more precious. The trees smell wonderful. This is the fleeting moment before summer gives way to fall and everything is as beautiful as it will ever be.

Some of these images are beautiful, some are fun, others are a little disturbing. I hope they make you think of this precious time on the precipice between summer and fall and I especially hope they make you think about the amazing world which most of us miss most of the time.

Creation reflects God's love and His glory. May the lens of my camera and the meditation of our eyes be acceptable in Your sight, oh Lord our rock and our redeemer.

Up close

Hard at work

The Rain

Mid Summer Eve

This summer is a little less than half over. If you don't stop and smell the flowers, they'll be gone before you know it. So, here's another chance to soak in some of the beauty of the season.

In the Lost Garden

A twilight, between civilization and jungle.
Unkempt,
like an eccentric genius's mussy hair.
A lost garden
left behind
when it's gardeners move away
grows it's own way,
yet the way it was shown-
like a stray mutt with pedigreed genes in it's lineage.
And like a mutt,
it plays with children and squirrels,
unleashed and away from it's former mistress
children and cats sneak into the yard
and imagine they've discovered
their own private paradise,
their own secret garden.
The lost garden.
Enter and enjoy.

Phirst Phlowers of the Photo Season!

2 Kiss me and kiss me again,
for your love is sweeter than wine.
3 How fragrant your cologne;
your name is like its spreading fragrance.

Nature's poetry; Peonies emerging

Spring,
resurrection,
breaking through,
renewal,
a fresh start,
death giving way to life...
sometimes a picture is worth
a thousand poems,
sometimes a simple seedling
humbles all the hubris
of human language.