Sunday, October 20, 2019

Inconvenient Sunset

Have you dreamed about enjoying a sunset on Key West or imagined sitting in a café, watching the colors reflected in a lake? We usually have no control over where we are when a spectacular sunset appears. This one made the sky seem so much wider as it spread a wash of pinks and purples over roofs and sidewalks. Here it is, along with the lamp posts and telephone wires that inhabit my everyday world. When something like this happens, just stop and enjoy the gift.

Sunday, October 13, 2019

Dilapidated House

Although it does not fit the conventional image of a haunted house (nothing Victorian in the style of this sad little bungalow) it has that same aura of spooky near-abandonment. The house is a mystery, partly hidden by the vines that have conquered the chimney and are working to pry up the edges of the roof. Who lived here in happier, tidier days? How did it get to this collapsing unloved state? Too far gone to be saved, what will eventually replace it?

Sunday, October 6, 2019

Leaves In Transition

After some too-hot October days, autumn is finally here. In the Appalachian Mountains, north-facing shrubs and trees have started exchanging their wardrobe of summer greens for autumn hues. I love this oh so brief moment, when we can enjoy every color, all at once, and really study the details. Some leaves resist the change, some have lost the chlorophyl in all but their veins, and others have committed to the blazing reds that will carry them on a breeze, down into the valley below.

Sunday, September 29, 2019

Graffiti And A Green Chair

The walking path runs past an unoccupied building. I admired the way the weeds, chair and colors of the graffiti complemented each other--a study in greens. Whose chair is this? How often does someone sit here? Did they specifically choose the spot with the graffiti? The view is not beautiful or remarkable in any way, but it must be a welcome temporary retreat for someone.

Sunday, September 22, 2019

Crazy Bricks

The facade of ths building made me do a double-take. We went around the block so I could walk down the street and take a photo. Have you ever seen bricks arranged like this? Shall we call it slightly organized chaos? There is something about it that reminds me of crazy quilts, even down to the colors. The roof is kind of wacky too. I just love it.

Sunday, September 15, 2019

Three Pincushions

The tomato pincushion is a sewing icon. Pincushions in a vast range of shapes became a popular item during Victorian times, made as special gifts or donations to bazaars. Pins used to be so precious that they were kept in little boxes. "Pyn pillows" eventually became pincushions. Why has the tomato, with it’s tag-along strawberry emery for sharpening the pins, endured?  The tomato was a good luck symbol, set on the mantel of a new home. It's a fairly easy shape to make. The green yarn dividing it into wedges means that machine or hand needles in varying sizes can be parked in designated sections. I found this dusty trio languishing next to a neglected sewing machine. The hodgepodge of safety pins, rusty needles and American flags reveals that their owner was neither organized nor a dedicated seamstress. But the pincushions still wait, ready to be used.

Sunday, September 8, 2019

Tall Sunflowers

An article in the newspaper described a new variety of sunflower that blooms more than once a season. It grows less than three feet high, more like bush. Ask any child to describe a sunflower and, along with the big brown and yellow blooms, the plant's height is the feature they remember. Stand there and marvel at the sturdy stems, the whorls of ripening seeds, the sunny heads nodding several feet above your head. Sunflowers are worth a detour for a late summer experience that will make you feel like a child.