Spellbinding

A FLASHBACK — Hesitate, and I may miss it, as day melts gently into dusk, that peaceful interlude when the sky glows in quiet splendor, crystallizing into the palest, faintest, purple, long before the first stars are out. What one of the best gifts mom ever gave me wasn't wrapped in paper, or tied in a bow. It was her appreciation for beauty. Her awareness that art isn't always framed. 

Once again, I've lost myself in the endless wonder of nature. Today, I found a stone every bit as spellbinding as that first faint glimmer of sunshine. What's least expected is often most beautiful...

I can almost smell the rich, brown, rain-soaked earth now.

Pumpkin to Pumpkin Pie

A FLASHBACK — The colors are here now; frequently I observe the transformation and imagine you with your easel and palette mixing the vast array of shades from green to brown, red to orange, cinnamon to wheat, blood red to eggplant purple, pumpkin to pumpkin pie, rust to brick. As I crunched through the leaves on the ground this morning, kicking them to stir them up, I imagined walking with you in the crisp cool air, as we did in France. I know that our friendship is something far and away more special, more significant, more far-reaching and consequential than most people ever are privileged to experience.

Snip Snip Snip

Snip, snip, snip. Bright bits of paper flew like tropical birds as Matisse created his brilliant collages. You might imagine he'd been at work here, too. For the vivid yellow mustard flowers that sing against the blue of the sky along Adobe road do seem possessed of his signature style. Slowly at first, almost imperceptibly, a faint play of rose light flickers on the distant hillside, heralding the dawn of a new day.