Oh, a wondrous bird is the pelican!

Do click on a few of these!

It had rained all day. Something told me to swing through Ding Darling Refuge one more time. Birders and tourists had been discouraged by the rain and only one other little couple witnessed this most beautiful of events. More than a hundred white pelicans lifted off in wave after bright wave contrasted against the dark receding storm clouds.

Something appeared on my camera screen I'd never seen before: the memory card is full.

Therefore I missed the most dramatic shots, but after that initial moment of heart-sinking disbelief I reminded myself to listen and watch as the light and sound washed over me.

BTW: Need to mention that the white pelican has a wingspan of 10 feet and can weigh up to 20 pounds. Oh yeah.

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Lightness

Kindness has a lovely face . .








Nevermind!



All is right with the world . . .

A lot of living in fifteen minutes.

Beach Scenes

I simply recorded what our fellow humans are doing with their leisure time. Sunshine has some interesting effects.


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How we suffer and yet . . .

how we burn with love, wonder, tenacity.

Having abandoned my fellow bloggers for months, I finally screwed up the courage to return to people's lintels.

Pam, from Mind Trips, has been suffering from Lou Gehrig's Disease as did my beautiful father. As an artist, she turned to her computer to maintain her ability to express her love of life.

I was honored to have her use one of my photos to create the serene vision above.

Pam has not posted since March.










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Remembering the Gifts of 2009

May every happiness be yours in the New Year.


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Receive

Receive, receive
the snow, the sifting,
receive the whiteness
sweeping, sweeping
across sear leaves receive,
receiving
the weight of nothing,
air conceiving
wafting crystals,
frost-winged moths
drifting down,
swept aloft.
Across the yard
and limbs receiving,
as the sun is gently leaving,
softness, softness
gently whispering,
softness, softness
now descending
through the trees,
across the eaves,
. . .receive
. .. . receive . . . .
receive . . . .
. . . . . . . receive.


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In Lieu of Flowers. November.

Leave us something of yourself,
sweet trees, indifferent bees,
spiders wrapping up a summer’s job,
now listless in the chilly breeze.
Leave us something of yourself.


Do not forget these eyes that traced
your spinning nets and pollened toes
and watched you love the sky’s bright face
with fingertips that rose
above the earth in garrulous green.


Leave us here believing
in the hills aglow, again -
and in a churning freshet searching
for what it cannot know,
but, then again,

knows.

It is this season’s yearnings
that foretell the bright returnings.


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Joy in the Rain

The rain pattered on my windshield. The park visitors ran for their cars. I continued to read the newspaper until I saw the following through my rain-splattered window. She was a football field's length from me. Still, you couldn't miss her joy in rain.



























Click on this image. Look into the shadows on the right.



I know what she's thinking. Was I ever so young? So purely innocently happy? Perhaps, not. But this child's rain-induced joy is enough for this day.

Update: OK. It was a little projection when I identified that figure in the shade as a crop-haired old woman. Sheesh. Looks like a kid of the male variety:0)



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