Or maybe 7 1/2? Seven is a nice number; odd and prime and pretty to write. And these beauties, with their bridge of a twig, seem like great night-lights. It wasn’t quite night, but they sure jumped out. Love the symmetry of the brown markings and the increased density towards the peak. Anyone know what they are?
Some TV show when I was a kid had something called a “come closer problem.” I don’t remember the show nor the nature of the problem, but the phrase stuck in my head. So here are those striking seeds (?) looking luminous and vaguely like popcorn or teeth or corn kernels.
The second time I was there (while house-hunting), I touched them. They were the texture of cooked rice and could squoosh or crumble in my fingers. I wonder if they could be hung to air-dry for use in flower arrangements…oh well, we didn’t find the house as intriguing as these, so probably won’t be back there.
Well, some of them seem bigger and brighter and bolder than others. There are definitely things the sun needs to set on; and others that sunrise would benefit. All in all, a great day. May we see some great in all our days!
We were downtown in San Diego last night for preview night –hence no blog post yesterday. This is sure what it feels like: a bit silly, joyful, and a-tilt. People all over, walking down the middle of some of the streets, camping out on sidewalks, costumes, children, and noise!
I may have posted a photo of these before. That’s OK, I needed to focus on their freshness. The crisp high contrast, the deep darkness of the leaves, the here-I-am boldness are all what feeds me now.
On our way back from our morning walk…they called, I stopped, here you are.
After a lovely afternoon in downtown San Diego, including lunch and good coffee, traipsing around with a friend, and an art opening plus supper, this is the Sky. Hello Sky. Goodnight, Sky!
Babies? Why are there suddenly all these new parts of palm-type trees that I’m noticing? Perhaps all due to the early spring rains?
These look stuck on, or poked in, like pins into a pin cushion. Don’t they look like you could just pluck them out? And perhaps use them to decorate a hat, a rather large hat? And they are that delicious yellow-green that *almost* sets your teeth on edge, it’s so sharp. the right kind of sharp.
And, to the right of the second row from the bottom, there are holes that make it look like the new appendages fell out. Maybe they did. And the two eyes/bulleyes/wounds are all that’s left.
Isn’t that a great word! And this tree bears its scars with some quiet pride. Love the bark texture, as if it’s been carved.
I know for sure that I’ve noticed so much more about the world around me by doing this blog. Art education in general enriches the ability to see; photography has its own niche there.
Purple and orange. Or is that purple more of a blue? I’m not sure, but I found this combination striking. Summer in the beach town. Doesn’t have the ring of “summer in the city,” but it’s still pretty darn nice. And the patches of sunshine on the green leaves is a touch of warmth. It’s been warm and muggy here, relatively speaking, so this isn’t surprising.
Well, there’s fruit and then there’s fruit. It looks like jewelry. Or a mop head. Or popcorn. Or anything but something that’s protruding out of the side of a palm-ish looking tree. Never saw anything like it. I was so excited to take its portrait that I forgot to touch it and smell it. Well, I might have another chance. Hope to be back in the area tomorrow!
8:30 am and there’s gonna be a group of people facing the sea, sitting in the sun, drinks in hand…
A different kind of convention. Why would you want to sit in a row like that? It looks like you get to converse only with the people next to you. Who decides who sits where? Seems almost like confronting the ocean. Water, then sand, then the lineup, then the cliff, now casting an almost ominous shadow. I found this both wryly amusing and a bit unsettling.
The beach is back! The rocks have receded/been buried/been washed out to sea. And this flock of seagulls seemed to be celebrating at the bottom of the cliff.
I wonder what they are discussing. Not climate change, not health care, not cyber threats, not nuclear sable-rattling, not police/gun violence, not gender injustice, not educational undermining, not even Amazon-takes-over-retail-for-the-entire-country. And certainly not even G-20 (19?)
I think I’d be happier in their convention. I don’t know the expected life-span of a sea gull. I don’t know their survival behavior, nor their social norms. But could they possibly be as fraught as ours?
It’s that blur on the left of the agapanthus bloom. I had to predict where it was going to go next; it was zipping down a row of flowers in someone’s front yard when we were on the way home from our walk this morning.
I wanted to make sure I spelled the flower name correctly. It is also called ‘Lily of the Nile.’ Who knew?
So this is a good example of the limitations of a cell phone camera. I could have used a fast shutter speed on an SLR and gotten a stop-motion photo. I think. My skills are rusty!
The streaks. The golden glow. The dark trees, including the skeletal one. The depth of the blue of the high sky. Well, just the magic of the opportunity to watch the settling of the sun into another night, another day to come. With hope.
Also at the wedding venue. I have never had window boxes. They certainly are lovely. I wonder if you have to water them from the outside? Maybe can’t open those windows, either, without disturbing the plants. I love the trailing lobelia. Blue flowers are so striking!
Again! Unbelievable saturated red. This plant was in the gardens at the site of a family wedding in New York, on Long Island. The bride and the families and the festivities were as lovely as these flowers!