Crystalized tears form soft
uneven lines around youthful
forgiving skin. Bright veins
turn brittle, trapped beneath
unspoken truths—too many
days passed under harsh
sunlight. Hollow flowery voices
drowned out by chickadee
songs erupt into icy
frozen maps leading lost
souls nowhere. Glowing warmth
melts away glassy biting
shards—pieces of us
grown frigid. Numbed by
quiet moonless nights, we’ve
wilted.
“All he needed was a wheel in his hand and four on the road.” -Jack Kerouac
Yesterday I took a leisurely drive with my daughter through the more undeveloped parts of our area. It was a clear, beautiful autumn day and I stopped occasionally to take photos when the roads provided enough space to pull over. My photos this week are the best of those images. I edited them all to have a similar tone. Is it my best work? No. Is it okay to simply like them and not love them? Sure. I’m learning and growing. It’s all part of the process.
These next few days are the final push to finish up NaNoWriMo. I’m behind. I’ve got to write 7,652 words by Wednesday. I’ve reached the “Brain, activate Deadline mode” phase. Here’s where being an unpublished writer gets tricky. Nobody really cares if I make this deadline except me. I have to be the one continuously digging deep to make my deadlines. There are really no consequences if I fail. Yet, I don’t want to fail. I don’t want to let myself down.
To everyone giving me support and cheering me on, thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate it. May everyone have a wonderful week filled with the things you love best.
“Well, we all make mistakes, dear, so just put it behind you. We should regret our mistakes and learn from them, but never carry them forward into the future with us.” -L.M. Montgomery
Yesterday I took family photographs of a dear friend and her beautiful family. It was a wonderful opportunity for me to stretch my photography skills and offer this service to people I love. What I learned was…I need to learn a lot more. Although it went well, as far as flow and everyone staying in wonderful moods, I didn’t do great with lighting or poses. While some of the photos were beautiful, others fell short. Ultimately, I failed in a lot of big ways.
When I woke up this morning I felt defeated and upset. I wanted to do so much better. While I could let this setback derail me, after coffee and a long hot shower, I’ve decided to keep going. I think after the new year I’ll enroll in some photography classes, invest in some new software, and keep trying. Everything is a learning experience and the only way to get better is to keep going.
My photos this week were all taken before the family shots and were edited to be black-and-white. I hope you enjoy them and have a wonderful week.
“I felt my lungs inflate with the onrush of scenery—air, mountains, trees, people. I thought, ‘This is what it is to be happy.’”―Sylvia Plath
This morning my daughter and I visited the beautiful trails around Effie Yeaw Nature Center in Carmichael. A lot of uncertainty circles us right now and being in nature provided a much-needed respite. We saw five baby deer leap across the trail. Two large bucks slam their antlers into each other until one relented and ran off. Squirrels scampering up and down the trees. Salmon jumping out of the river. It felt magical to have this time together.
I hope you enjoy this selection of images and may it bring you a moment of peace.
within this wild cacophony of silence
sit the words we don’t say anymore
scattered wispy threads of dead conversations
tucked into seat cushions and under rugs
watching with its tranquil virescent leaves
serenely placed on a lacy white doily
the tenacious fuzzy buds burst forth
to dance and sway as vermillion dolphins
“look at that,” I half-whisper
glowing screen still cradled in my palm
your tired eyes sweep the room
smiling when you see the fresh blooms
are you remembering roaring ocean waves?
swigging rum under the starry night sky?
black stone beaches, curvy thin roads?
slippery volcano hikes amongst the misty clouds?
I’m too afraid to ask anymore
with the ghosts of words dancing about
so instead I silently smile back
staring at the plant by the window
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.
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.
“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!
we’ve never formally met
shaking hands, exchanging names
we’re beyond such things
green watered dream river
living within shared bones
—marrow of continuous life
passion tugs weepy core
toward lover’s inevitable embrace
slippery rocks rattle beneath
unsteady, unstable moving feet
liquid kisses, fluid caresses
flowing fast, free, fierce
losing power inside your
deep roaring wild whitecaps
fingers touch fusing together
foaming—equal dance partners
last minute quick turn
freckled face warmed red
singing in sweet harmony
until we meet again
While visiting Oregon last week, I stood on the bank of a beautiful green river and was completely overwhelmed by how familiar it felt. Had I dreamed of this place? Did I visit its rushing waters in another lifetime? I wanted to be within its icy water and feel the power sweep me swiftly away. It called to me. This poem is an attempt at processing this strange and odd feeling. Has this ever happened to you?
silent cypress crouches
philosophic fern leers
kingly chrysalis sways
intake, inside, evolve
joyful wild whispers
dancing damp locks
freckled face freedom
After spending the weekend surrounded by messages of peace and love, I traveled to the lush coolness of the Oregon coast. I spent the morning whale watching on a boat with my daughter. The world seems to be whispering to me to be still and observe. I’m listening.
Bridgette Tales 