Blood Oranges

My first experience with blood oranges was in Italy, where they were as common as California navel oranges are in the U.S. We tossed them into salads and ate them for snacks. Every orange was a surprise, with flesh that might be plain orange, slightly rosy or brilliant maroon. Here they are, sliced and ready for a salad, a cacophony of crazy stripes in analogous colors. There is a quilt or some sort of fiber art in this photo, waiting to be born. When I figure it out, it will be delicious. 

Valentine Tree

On a trip to the post office, I walked past this tree. The hearts glittered in the weak winter sun. It made me smile. Later that day, I read an article about a dispute over a yard sign that escalated into lawsuits resulting in the bankruptcy of a homeowners association. Twenty percent of Americans live in neighborhoods that fall under the auspices of such associations. They must submit to rules about the style of mailboxes, color of doors and the allowance (or not) of  "yard art." This Valentine tree would not be deemed acceptable. Whether or not you approve of mylar hearts and plastic flowers, there is something in the human spirit that makes us want to embellish and personalize our surroundings. For me, this tree represents an enthusiasm for life, for the various holidays and occasions that mark the year. I am grateful that no rules or covenants stifle my neighbor's creativity and am looking forward to whatever comes next. Perhaps shamrocks or Easter eggs?

Leaded Glass Heart

I've found that if you set out to find a particular shape or color it will magically appear. Part of this is just being receptive to whatever you are looking for. Then you begin to see what may have been there all along. We might find a heart carved into an antique dresser, forged into wrought iron gates or lying in a creek bed in the form of a smooth pebble. In Charleston, SC, hearts intertwine in the leaded glass doors of the Calhoun Mansion. They bend the light and scatter tiny rainbows on the walls and floor. It's like walking into and out of a Victorian valentine.

Shopping Carts and Port-O-Potty

There is  a story within this picture. Any odd juxtapositioning of people or objects encourages us to discover (or make up) a story. I took the photo because it struck me as funny. But now it seems slightly melancholy. The shopping carts have wandered to the far edge of their territory. Are they longing to discover what is on the other side of the road? Do they wish to glide along the bike path? Would they take their new, lumbering, possibly-stinky friend with them? We will never know.