A Thousand Moons | #WordlessWednesday

I am born as the sun,
but then turn into the moon,
as my blonde hairs turn
grayish-white and fall to
the ground,
only to be buried again,
then to be born again,
into a thousand suns
and a thousand moons

“Hymn of the Divine Dandelion,” by Suzy Kassem


About the image: Social distancing and the disrespectful amount of rain we’ve had has made it quite difficult for me to capture the early spring blossoms, but the dandelions never fail me. I captured this one a couple of days ago outside a small marketplace. My hubby and I went on a literal hunt for tissue paper and hand soap. Our mission was half accomplished–soap, no TP. It was challenging o get out of the house early enough to beat the market stalkers. No worries, though. Hubby found some yesterday. Thankfully, there will be no rain today, and we will have six hours straight of sun [no clouds]! #CoronaChronicles

Hungry for the Sun and Trees

It’s gray and a little rainy today, but earlier this week we had a strong dose of sun. As soon as I had a break [Monday], I raced out my office, soaked in the sun, and basked in the therapeutic presence of trees. I’m so glad I did because I spent most of Tuesday in meetings!

I shot the photos in this post with my phone camera while the sun played peek-a-boo with the clouds.

I have been a little “off kilter” the last few days for a variety of reasons, but the brief visit with trees provided calm and perspective when I needed to tune out and tune in.

so hungry
for sun
it sheds
its clothes
and stretches naked
branches toward the sky

“Winter Tree,” Laura P. Salas

How Much Is the Doggie in the Window?

After declaring that I would participate in Nancy Merrill’s photo challenge (a couple of weeks ago), I realized two things:

  1. I had already decided to participate in the weekly challenge hosted by Capture 52, a private Facebook photography group, and
  2. it’s often near impossible for me to find the time to photograph the weekly subjects, no matter how intriguing.

Therefore, I’ve decided to participate in a way that allows me a creative moment without the [self-imposed] stress–a mix of Nancy’s challenge, the Capture 52 challenge, and shots of whatever speaks to me when I can’t “find” anything to photograph related to the prompts.

Today, I’m sharing one of the photos I captured for the Capture 52 Week 4 prompt: Green.

Who knew I’d discover green puppies in a shop window? I couldn’t resist taking a shot with my phone camera or singing the song, “How Much Is the Doggie in the Window?” Are you singing it too?

Be sure to tune in tomorrow for #ThursdayTreeLove. Maybe, there will be more green!

Oh, Christmas Tree! | #WordlessWednesday

Christmas is not a story of hope. It is hope. –Craig D. Lounsbrough

The university held its annual Christmas party yesterday. The theme this year, “Christmas in the Alps,” matched the cold, cold of outdoors.

The team always does an amazing job with the decor, and we felt like we were in Switzerland. I’d intended to photograph some of the cozy elements created to capture the theme, but I’m still a bit fatigued–it was a hard semester. I did manage to get shots [on my phone] of some the ornaments adorning the very tall tree.

The images speak for themselves, so they are perfect for a #WordlessWednesday. [Click an image for a closer look].

 

Into Morning | #WordlessWednesday

Sometimes, it’s necessary to ignore the ice cold temperature and race outdoors at the first sign of light to catch a glimpse of God.

“I Wake Close to Morning”
Mary Oliver

Why do people keep asking to see
God’s identity papers
when the darkness opening into morning
is more than enough?
Certainly any god might turn away in disgust.
Think of Sheba approaching
the kingdom of Solomon.
Do you think she had to ask,
“Is this the place?”

from Felicity, 2015

Heartwounds | #WordlessWednesday

I left my final class of the day saddened by comments made by one of the students. In our discussion about how two films define love, forgiveness, redemption, hope, and freedom, she spewed venom about love in a way that shocked most of the other students.

Sometimes it’s easier for a wounded individual to speak from anger than it is to confront deep pain, but, as an English professor, it’s not my place to “psychoanalyze” her or any other student. It is my “job,” however, to help her develop sound intellectual traits. But, because of her wound, she could not see the shortsightedness of her thinking.

I thought about my student this evening as I was reading through Anointed to Fly, a poetry collection by Dr. Gloria Wade Gayles. The words of “Heartwounds” [below] seemed to leap off the page. With incredible insight, the poem describes the  persistent ache of a woman who [once] loved.  I thought about my student as I read the poem.

“Heartwounds”
Gloria Wade Gayles, Anointed to Fly

Some men have not learned that heartwounds
as deep as a woman’s need for love
do not respond to phoney curatives
of roses, sweetened words and
make-up passion in scented rooms.

They do not heal themselves
with the passing of time
which erases time only
but not pain and the memory
of pain.

Let untreated
heartwounds become
sores
scabs
scars
ugly reminders of flawed love.

Some men believe
women were born
to endure
to understand
to forgive
to be irrational in all things.

It is that way,
they tell us,
with the pull of the moon.

They will not learn
perhaps cannot learn
that a woman’s heart
damaged by multiple wounds
beats faintly

and then

not
at
all


I’m sorry this isn’t a happy poem, and that this #WordlessWednesday is kind of wordy. You can skip the poem and just look at the pretty picture if you wish. I’ve been practicing photographing roses, so you’ll see another rose photo soon.