I’ve been waiting to have something brilliant to say - as if anything I say right now would make any sense at all. The world doesn’t seem to make much sense. Even the sunrise is off. Typically we have a good sunrise to photograph - where the clouds light up with colors and the sun is not completely blocked at the horizon - about 10 days in every month. I know because I’ve counted my photo archives. The rest of the days are typically split between completely cloudy or mostly clear skies. For 7 years this has consistently been true - but not right now. In eight weeks we’ve had only one sunrise with good color - August 30th, the photo I used at the top of my first blog post.
This is lovely and succinct! I am transported to the noticing immediately.
"It’s funny how I have failed to take this quiet consistency as a gift and rather end up wondering if it’s the calm before the storm. It’s so easy to look for the color and the action and to miss the sweetness of the mundane and ordinary."
Ohhhhhh - thank you for this Chelsea. I feel I may be fighting that in a lot of my writing, lol. I know I often have the sense I need to deliver "more" - but I never have that sense when I'm out in nature itself.
You have many brilliant and important things to say and show, Karen! Keep us grounded in the world around us, rather than the incessant buzz of the latest news feed. xoxoxo
Beautifully and honestly said! Maybe nature, like humans, is just very tired, depressed, and unable to be spectacular right now. 2020 has been such a beatdown in so many ways. Right now, we can't even think about a sprint; it's all marathon, pushing through, one step at a time. But I have faith that we WILL eventually cross the finishing line and will slowly, gently return to some semblance of joy and sanity. I think it was your photos of those dear little wrens, isolating and yet still so peaceful, that gave me a much-needed shot of quiet hope and reminded me, I can do this. And Karen, you never take a photo that is wasted or doesn't tell a valuable story! You write eternal wisdom with your camera. Stay safe; be well.
This is lovely and succinct! I am transported to the noticing immediately.
"It’s funny how I have failed to take this quiet consistency as a gift and rather end up wondering if it’s the calm before the storm. It’s so easy to look for the color and the action and to miss the sweetness of the mundane and ordinary."
Ohhhhhh - thank you for this Chelsea. I feel I may be fighting that in a lot of my writing, lol. I know I often have the sense I need to deliver "more" - but I never have that sense when I'm out in nature itself.
You have many brilliant and important things to say and show, Karen! Keep us grounded in the world around us, rather than the incessant buzz of the latest news feed. xoxoxo
Thank you dear Vivi
Beautifully and honestly said! Maybe nature, like humans, is just very tired, depressed, and unable to be spectacular right now. 2020 has been such a beatdown in so many ways. Right now, we can't even think about a sprint; it's all marathon, pushing through, one step at a time. But I have faith that we WILL eventually cross the finishing line and will slowly, gently return to some semblance of joy and sanity. I think it was your photos of those dear little wrens, isolating and yet still so peaceful, that gave me a much-needed shot of quiet hope and reminded me, I can do this. And Karen, you never take a photo that is wasted or doesn't tell a valuable story! You write eternal wisdom with your camera. Stay safe; be well.
"unable to be spectacular" - that's a great way to describe how I feel! Ha! <3 Thank you Lauren.
Maybe just lying fallow until it's time to bloom again... :-)
And you have succeeded in that endeavor very well I will say😊thank you Karen.
Thank you Lydia