The weekly photo challenge on WordPress for the week is : Scale (my second try).. “Experiment with placement and scale to show how big (or small) you can feel in a photo.” I decided to do this challenge again, photographing two fallen leaves, dropped by the wind on edge in the grass. (My first response to this challenge can be found here on my The Art of Disorder blog.)
The weekly photo challenge on WordPress for the week is : Scale. “Experiment with placement and scale to show how big (or small) you can feel in a photo.” Not having any depths or heights, I have chosen photographs of hoverflies in relation to their flowers and to the garden as a whole.
Our butcher posted his weekly specials, this week, on his web page. We had been forgetting to stop at that store, somehow, without specials posted, even though we did not always take advantage of them. I had been wanting to bake chicken breasts, and that was one of the three specials, so we stopped by the shop before Al went off to his volunteer work, this afternoon.
With two pounds of meat, I washed and dried the chicken breasts, rubbed them lightly with olive oil, added seasoning to top and bottom (crushed peppercorns, sea salt, and cumin), and put the baking dish into the oven for forty minutes at 350°F. Twenty minutes to go!
The strong winds, combined with heavy rain, this morning, pretty much beat down and soaked the plants in the backyard wildflower garden. The ornamental clover is still doing well, and there are some Black-eyed Susan and Siberian Wallflower plants that still have blooms, but that’s about it. The blue wild flax … may dry out. If not, I will be taking photographs of fallen leaves until the snow flies.
Leaves, Not Drifting
Clover and Raindrops
Black Eyed Susans
In this morning’s rain, I saw two Northern Flickers hunting out bugs in the front yard. I’m glad that they are still around. I don’t imagine that the raptors do much hunting in the midst of thunderstorms or torrential downpours. (See Hunting Circles for background.)
… and some favorite photographs from September 28, 29 and 30.
Black-eyed Susan with Painted Lady
Flower and Seed Pod
Upper and Lower Flowers
I am now in the last week of the four-week “Introduction to Japanese Poetry” workshop that I’d signed up for in at the beginning of August. This week I am to write tanka every day and read essays that I am finding quite helpful in understanding the underlying rationale (?). My understanding of haiku has changed a lot during the course of the workshop, also. Very happy that I signed up for it, and I will have a lot to carry forward after the workshop ends.
I find that my joy in writing poetry is expanding.
These weeks have been, as I had expected, quite difficult to get through. My youngest sister died on September 30 in 2014, and the anniversary of her memorial service is Tuesday. Last year, these two weeks included my mother’s transition from the family home to hospital and when a bed became available, transfer to a care facility under hospice care. The feeling of loss contests with my joy in their present joy. And yet it’s not the one against the other, but both emotions, each a legitimate recognition of reality, coexist. Life’s texture becomes deeper, more intricate. Things are settling inside me. I think that’s a good thing.
Remembering my mother’s entering the Care Center a little more than a year ago. I think this is not a letting go, so much as it’s being okay to look at it, again. It was a painful loss. As was Samantha’s death early in 2016. Two close family members gone. And since, too many more.
Samantha – 2016-02-05 3 April 2008-18 February 2016
The milestones in life, birth, adoption, birthdays, illnesses and death. My mother’s move from hospital into a nursing home under hospice care on Tuesday, and I find myself returning to the sorrow and leavetaking from my puppy Samantha in February. I have photographs of her in my lap at the veterinary hospital when we brought her in and decided to have her euthanized.
Warm, here in my lap
I held her tight,
letting go forever . . .
Mother and I were quite close before I left for college, and then starting again perhaps ten years after my graduation. Restaurants, plays, lectures, faculty recitals, orchestra concerts, telephone visits once they were no longer metered. After I married, she and I spent much less time together, which was inevitable. Now, over the past five years or so, as her eyesight failed…