#ThursdayTreeLove | Unbothered

“Oak Feet”

The campus trees and I have been reunited! I returned to work August 3 [technically], but it had been too hot to visit them. Yesterday was less oppressive, so I was happy to get outdoors when a colleague needed a favor.  While I was walking back to my office, I noticed how beautifully the oak near my building had spread.

“The Spreading Oak” [iPhone photo]

I had to get back to my office to complete a task before leaving for the day, so I quickly snapped the shot above with my phone and promised to return.

I made good on my promise today.

I worked diligently all morning. It was afternoon before I knew it, so I took a five-minute break to clear my head and energize before tackling another task on the ‘must do today” list. Of course, I headed to the trees.

“Intricate Pattern”

Oh, how I missed them the last five+ months! I didn’t have much time, so I walked the circle of trees nearest my building. I stood still for a moment to take in the scene–from the patterns in tree trunks (above) to the tiny magnolia [?] that took root in the foot of another tree (below).

“Magnolia Rooted”

Then, I turned my attention to the oak. I was simply mesmerized by its majesty and by how much it had thrived in the absence of an abundance of human activity. In fact, all the trees seemed unbothered by pandemics and human foibles.

“Hello, Beautiful”

I was reminded of a reading from Melodie Beattie’s Journey to the Heart. In the passage, she refers to the redwoods of California, but I will take the liberty and ascribe her words to “my” trees:

“A Fragment of the Majestic”

For hundreds of years they have been here, patiently seeing things through. Little ruffled them. They just kept on growing for all those years—steadily, patiently, peacefully, calmly. They have been through enough, seen enough, to know not to worry. Things work out. Change happens. Life continues to evolve.

I didn’t see one tree hurrying or worrying. They have been here long enough to learn life’s lessons well.  –Melody Beattie, Journey to the Heart: Daily Meditations on the Path to Freeing Your Soul

“Strong Arms”

My first campus walk since March–a deep, cleansing breath.


I am joining Parul Thakur for #ThursdayTreeLove every second and fourth Thursday of the month. If you would like to play along, post a picture of a tree on your blog and link it back to her latest #treelove post.

First Day: The New Academy, Hell, and Miracles

My favorite building on campus

Forgive me for what is sure to be a rambling, pointless blog post. Despite my weariness, I promised myself I would write a post today because Microblog Mondays are part of my normal. I need as much normal as I can get these days.

For many complex reasons, my university decided to offer in-person instruction, but students have the option to attend virtually. Today was the first day of classes. I’m not sure how I feel about it. I met students in my office via ZOOM instead of in a classroom. Only a couple of my students are back on campus for in-person instruction. The others are learning from their homes because neither they nor their parents are comfortable with the still rising [COVID-19] numbers.

There’s so much more to think about during these COVID times. There are so many ways of navigating academic life that has been remapped. We wear masks and face shields; place protective shields on our desks; check temperatures and sanitize our hands when we enter buildings; we carry gloves, hand sanitizer, extra masks, and disinfectant spray; we are overly conscious of our hands and face; we remind students to “stay back” the magic distance of six feet—no hugs for those beautiful ones we haven’t seen in five months; we teach fewer students in instructional spaces and try to construct our courses so the students build connections through the digital divide.

To make matters even more interesting–here we are in the hottest part of a southern summer, and the air conditioner in our almost 80-year-old building decided to go on strike. So 95 degrees outside. 105 inside while wearing a mask. I had a taste of hell today.

Strange start to the academic year after an odd too-long/too-short summer. In these first moments, getting through [another] COVID semester seems impossible, but I keep reminding myself, the impossible gives birth to miracles.

Seven Days Ago…

Seven days ago
my oldest nephew was murdered…
while helping someone in need…
in a case of mistaken identity.

I have not
found the words to name this pain.
I do not have the capacity to hold it,
so I hold my breath
and scour his Facebook page
for pretty words
and praise for who he was

and think about small moments of joy
and celebration,

like the time I spent two weeks ago
with Colleen’s flowers.

Rest in Peace, Dear Byron.
Thank you for the gifts of your smile,
your open heart,
your joyful presence.

Until we meet again,
I will hold you in my heart.

Behold, I shew you a mystery; We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed. For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. So when this corruptible shall have put on incorruption, and this mortal shall have put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, Death is swallowed up in victory.  (I Corinthians 15:51-54 KJV)

#ThursdayTreeLove | TreeArt Part III: A Masterpiece

I’m back with my final TreeArt photo from a late May visit to Burritt on the Mountain.

A gorgeous tree stump arrested my attention just before we entered the “open-air museum,” as the park is described. It was behind a low fence near the entrance, so I walked around the fence to take a few shots. For my son, who is a stickler for rules, the fence meant “don’t go there.” so I had to be quick.

I was mesmerized by the patterns. It had recently rained, so the dampness gave the stump a smooth, polished texture. Isn’t it beautiful?

I’m convinced the “inside” of a tree is one of nature’s most magnificent masterpieces.


I am joining Parul Thakur for #ThursdayTreeLove every second and fourth Thursday of the month. If you would like to play along, post a picture of a tree on your blog and link it back to her latest #treelove post.

Gallery in the French Quarter | New Orleans

“One of the many typical gallery scenes in the Vieux Carre section where balconies over hang the narrow and picturesque streets.” –Description from postcard back

Doesn’t this look like a lovely place to be, “to escape thoughts of the Corona Virus?” as one of my friends commented when I shared a photo of this postcard with her this morning.

The “French Quarter Gallery” is one of many, many vintage New Orleans postcards I received from a blog reader I encountered just a few weeks ago via email. After visiting my blog–perhaps after reading my “About Me” page–April C contacted me and told me she had some antique New Orleans postcards that she would like to send to me. Of course, I said, “Yes!”

I expected 10–no more than 20–postcards to add to my “Vintage NOLA” collection, but I was shocked when my hubby returned from the Post Office last week and placed a package filled with postcards in my hands. 120 postcards, to be exact!

About 10-15 of the postcards are from a road trip April’s grandfather took in the 1950’s. The rest are from her Aunt Dixie who collects things “labeled Dixie” because of her name. I haven’t combed through the postcards carefully yet, but it seems the earliest postcard is dated 1930. Some have notes and postmarks and others are blank. I’m looking forward to diving in a bit deeper over the next few weeks.

According to my preliminary research the “Genuine Curteich-Chicago C.T. Art-Colortone Post card” above was printed in 1937. It is attributed to A. Hirschwitz of New Orleans, Louisiana.

I’ll be “showcasing” more of the postcards here on Pics and Posts–little by little–over the next few [or several] months, so be sure to tune in.

Until then, enjoy a few older posts featuring vintage postcards:

A million thanks to you, April, for this phenomenal gift!

#ThursdayTreeLove | TreeArt Part II: Shadow and Light

We find beauty not in the thing itself but in the patterns of shadows, the light and the darkness, that one thing against another creates…Were it not for shadows, there would be no beauty.  –Junichiro Tanizaki, In Praise of Shadows, 1933

I don’t know about you, but I really need time to slow down a bit. How are we already at the end of June? I am trying to savor this summer, but it’s almost impossible since I really haven’t begun my summer break yet (meetings and tying up too many loose ends of a crazy COVID semester). I will have to work a lot of tree love into the remaining five weeks if I am to face a new academic year with at least a little sanity.

Anyway, I’m back, as promised, with the second installment of TreeArt. The photos aren’t spectacular, but I I was drawn to these particular shots because of the interplay of shadow and light.

I failed to mention in TreeArt Part I that the photos for this three-part series were shot at Burritt on the Mountain in Huntsville, Alabama.

If you want way more Burritt tree love [and autumn loveliness] you should check out my November 2016 post, Walk to the Cross.

Until next time…


I am joining Parul Thakur for #ThursdayTreeLove every second and fourth Thursday of the month. If you would like to play along, post a picture of a tree on your blog and link it back to her latest #treelove post.

#ThursdayTreeLove | TreeArt Part I: The Sculptor

The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing that stands in the way. Some see nature all ridicule and deformity… and some scarce see nature at all. But to the eyes of the [wo]man of imagination, nature is imagination itself.  William Blake, Letters from William Blake to Dr. John Trusler (1799)

The guys and I finally had an opportunity to get in a bit of tree therapy a couple of weeks ago. After finding absolutely no parking at one mountain trail, we drove to another and found the parking lot empty. We had the whole trail to ourselves! [We kept our masks on anyway–just in case].

For this outing, I was drawn to the remains of trees, which add a bit of drama and art to the trails.

I didn’t take many shots, but I have nine or ten photos to share. Instead of throwing all in one post, I’m spreading them out over three [consecutive?] #ThursdayTreeLove posts.

Today I’m sharing tree sculptures. Nature does an amazing job of sculpting trees–from the initial “cut” to the shaping.

The one below is freshly “cut.” I wonder what shape it will take.

Apparently it was struck by lightning. Here’s the top:

I’ll be watching for how these transform [even more] over time.

Until next time…


I am joining Parul Thakur for #ThursdayTreeLove every second and fourth Thursday of the month. If you would like to play along, post a picture of a tree on your blog and link it back to her latest #treelove post.

Two Cards | Appropriate for These Times | #WordlessWednesday

Art by Nola C. Specially colored for me by Christine B.

I read a Washington Post article this morning that reported the number of COVID-19 hospitalizations is rising in several U.S. states.

The card says it all.

It’s hard not to worry, but I am consoling myself with the hope that we are giving birth to something new and healthy.


About the Images: I received the cards in this #WordlessWednesday post from my friend and fellow Love Noter, Christine B. One arrived in April and the other late May. They are so appropriate for these times. The über cute “Socially Distant Hug” coloring card features the artwork of Nola C. She designed a number of free Corona coloring pages. You can find this card and others on her Facebook page.  The pretty “This Sucks” card is from Paper Raven Company. 

A Break with May Roses

May has been insane. I’m talking too much time in front of the computer, too little sleep, and no time for the things that nourish my soul. Therefore, I am taking a much needed break from the madness to share some rose photographs for a not-so-wordless Wednesday.

Since my son’s school couldn’t hold the annual Field Day activities, his teachers crafted an in-your-own-neighborhood scavenger hunt that served multiple purposes–socially distant fun in the sun, exercise, and healthy competition. While my not-so-little one hunted for items on the list, I captured the pretty hot pink knock out roses at the entrance of our neighborhood.

A few days later, my guys and I jumped into the car and took a drive to visit each of the aunts and deliver socially distant hugs. At Auntie Linda’s, I was able to give my camera a workout with the roses growing beautifully outside her town house. My favorite lens is on its last leg–it’s cracked–but it did okay.

After photographing everything green in our front- and backyards over the last few weeks, I desperately needed another color. What a gift the roses were!

And…whew! Thanks to this shift in focus, I feel so much better! Hopefully, I’ll see you tomorrow for #ThursdayTreeLove.