go where wide oak leaves fall further than crows doth call further still behind the wall where shadows are so very small
you’ll reach a darkened little cove deep inside an ancient grove richly scented—cinnamon and clove where moonlight threads are tightly wove
ignore raven’s sharp cry of nevermore and search forest’s littered floor where muted colors dance galore until you find nature’s hidden door
my dear child, don’t you fear whispered voices you may hear or tiny steps coming near the fabled weefolk will not interfere
don’t be tempted to knock—rat-a-tat-tat nothing good comes of that —instead beside the welcome mat you’ll find the perfect acorn hat
take it darling in your hand running fast across the land for now, you fully understand Autumn’s magic is yours to command
This was inspired by a wonderful morning exploring the woods and collecting acorns with my dearest nephew. I think I’ll always be searching for fairy doors.
“If you truly love nature, you will find beauty everywhere.”—Vincent Van Gogh
This morning I visited my local plant nursery and spent over an hour wandering the aisles photographing everything that caught my eye. I was pleased to find lots of colorful plants and several buzzing bees. The weather was nice and cool with just a hint of the autumn breeze which will soon become my everyday companion.
I’ve edited the ten best images and hope you find them interesting. May your week contain a little adventure and perhaps a surprise or two.
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
sometimes I wander in circles my eyes tracking the empty black sky, looking and looking for your white glowing face etched by night’s ancient magic —are you even really there?
whipping backward into myself there’s nothing and nobody to blame as these too empty white walls keep screaming your name so loud it vibrates every swollen trapped cell
moon— twisted hour hand turns slowly south
when you see my eyes staring at your lunar ones be not afraid you did anything wrong, for I’m simply searching for cosmic answers —can dark transform into light?
drawing with chalk along sidewalks, chins, knee caps caught in seclusion’s trap winding around and around my neck until breath stutters while tiny hairs dance along wobbly legs
isolation— you stopped time I started it
blue, green twisting, and wild maybe you, moon man, can turn madness and untethered chaos into an endless bright sea —do dark craters harbor truth?
dreams used to contain promises of another tomorrow and another, but suffocation robs rainbows their colorful transformative effect until diving underground to cool tunnels relief comes as sound without him here to dance
*Last weekend I saw the new film “Moonage Daydream.” This poem is my response and tribute to my favorite artist of all time and creative muse, David Bowie. The artwork was created by me.
This morning after dropping the kids off at school, I took a nature hike by my house. It was a beautiful, peaceful morning and I was greeted by lots of little critters. I saw geese, butterflies, lizards, birds, and dragonflies. Although most were either too far away to capture or moved too quickly, it was a nice morning and a great way to start off my week.
I’ve experimented more than usual with photo editing. Let me know what you think and thank you for stopping by and supporting me on my creative adventures.
Have a great week!
This last photo was a surprise. It wasn’t until it was downloaded that I discovered I’d captured a frog. I love its little wet hopping prints. I wish it was a bit more in focus, but I wanted to share it anyway because it was a happy surprise.
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
One of my dear friends sold handmade hair bows at the Rio Linda/Elverta Country Faire on Saturday and I decided it was a good excuse to visit the small town where I went to high school. It felt nostalgic to drive by my old stomping grounds and I ended up running into several people I knew.
While it’s a town of about 15,000, it’s kept a close connection to its rural roots and many parts of the city remain unchanged. Chances are if you’ve heard of Rio Linda it’s probably because of its frequent flooding or because conservative radio host Rush Limbaugh likes to poke fun at the intelligence of the town by saying “for those of you in Rio Linda.”
While I’m not great at taking photos of crowds, I wanted to challenge myself to capture the feeling of the event through my photography. Nearly all the crowd shots, unfortunately, didn’t turn out as I’d have liked. I found myself once again drawn upward to the sky and the trees. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy these selections and have a great week.
Bonus photos: The heatwave finally broke and we got some much-needed rain. I couldn’t resist taking a few photos of raindrops in my yard this morning.
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
Here’s a photo of me and my husband when we were in high school. I’m wearing my Rio Linda marching band uniform. Aren’t we the cutest?
as a tiny girl, I’d stare at the pretty bottle on grandma’s cherrywood dressing table while she covered my head in foam curlers so I’d look good for the Lord on Sundays
when she wasn’t looking I’d run pudgy fingers along its sleek pink sides before silently tugging at the curved pearl top hoping for a peek at its magical elixir
it never gave away its secrets though and as I grew up and moved far away thoughts of it faded like my imaginary friend—lost in the realm of make-believe
grandma died on a Tuesday in October while I knelt in the pumpkin patch pulling weeds, but it wasn’t until mid-November the small box arrived covered in stamps
wrapped in several layers of colorful silk with a scrawled note from grandma saying “this is for you” was her pretty pink bottle smelling faintly like rosemary and mint
tenderly I stroke it with tears in my eyes thinking of kneeled prayers and organ music before curiosity takes hold and using a knife from the kitchen, I pry open the sealed top
he springs forth with mystical blue smoke singing foreign words with a husky bass directly addressing the lonely parts locked deep inside my shattered, broken heart
“Kate” he purrs while locking his sapphire eyes on me, crawling naked across freshly washed hardwood floors until his hands grasp mine with a burst of golden sparks
“I’m Katie” I struggle to say through ragged breath “Kate was my grandma”—I don’t say she was a devout Christian who would never keep a naked man of blue smoke in a bottle
pulling himself to his full height he laughs like a thousand brass chimes in the wind like the roaring of the sky before a storm like all the words inside me spoken at once
“Kate was my lover and I her faithful jinn but after two wishes she trapped me within to await the perfect time when I would be free to dance with my love along the foamy sea”
confused by his musical words, I inch back muttering softly “she died” while looking at anything but the fierce intensity of his piercing eyes—”she left the bottle to me”
salty ocean air floats through open windows calling me to run on sandy shores barefooted as waves swell and crash, swell and crash until falling backward I land in his strong blue arms
thick perfumed smoke billows around us folding me into his warm embrace as it always has been and always will be—his sultry soft lips brush my ear whispering “what do you wish?”
Inspired by my grandma Kate and the film “Three Thousand Years of Longing”
Wildfires are becoming part of summer here in California. Last week we broke several heat records as numerous forest fires raged in various parts of the state. The one nearest to me, about 45 miles away, is the Mosquito Fire. It currently is about 10 percent contained and has burned more than 46,000 acres.
My daughter and I took a drive up the hill to photograph the rather remarkable pyrocumulus clouds we could see filling the sky. There were lots of campers and trucks driving in the opposite direction and we had to wonder if they were people being evacuated or who might have lost their homes. As we stood at a scenic overlook the mood was somber and quiet. Everyone was awed, scared, and overwhelmed by the enormity of what we were seeing.
My heart goes out to those affected by this fire and others in the state. I’ve included some photos at the end of the blog of the beautiful sky this morning and the new growth in my yard. I think it’s important to remember after a fire the land will rebuild and plants will regrow.
“Never. We never lose our loved ones. They accompany us; they don’t disappear from our lives. We are merely in different rooms.” — Paulo Coelho
Such a lovely quote and sentiment to think those who leave us are simply in another room we can’t quite get to right now. The last few weeks have been busy and emotional. I’m feeling zapped of my creative energy and blurry in all things.
I’ve continued to write and publish, but it feels as if I’m doing so from deep inside a watery abyss. Everything feels muted and my movements heavy. It’s also terribly hot outside with a predicted high temperature of 113 today. It makes it hard to want to do anything.
My photos this week are from a drive around the neighborhood. I pulled over when I saw things of interest; an amusing sign at the self-carwash, an abandoned dance center, power lines, and nature. Let me know if you have a favorite. I’m also curious how you refill your creative bucket when it starts to feel depleted. I’m open to all your ideas. Thank you!
Photos were taken with an Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW.
Bridgette Tales 