Eye Candy

Oh, this sweet planter of pansies took my breath away.  Isn’t it gorgeous! I don’t remember where I saw it. Who paints an exterior wall orange?  Thankfully someone did and momentarily redefined the term wallflower.


photo credit: Debra Darvick

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Photo Op

I went along to Belle Isle with Martin’s photography club. Now owned by the state, its gardens, Conservatory and other buildings are being restored to glory and gorgeousness. After meeting up, we scattered to wherever our eyes drew us.  I enjoyed the experience of having an “assignment” of sorts as opposed to snapping keepsake shots. 

It kept things interesting working within the limits of my rather antiquated iPhone SE. The flowers were in full bloom and stunning. A very protective red-winged blackbird strafed quite a few in the group, leading to some wonderful shots.

Martin and I see different worlds. His height gives him vistas that escape me. I tend to the small sights at ground level and play around with abstracting what I see. One woman was as entranced as I was at the purple stems of a blue globe thistle.  I can’t wait to see what she captured.

For me, the best part of the morning was a conversation I had with a 70-ish man who was taking in the sun by a goldfish pond.  “We need more of this,” he said, gesturing to the lilies and the sky. “Nature is healing. We’d all be so much better off if we spent more time in Nature.”        I agreed. The conversation veered to some reading of the Bible he had done the evening before, how we were created to be Earth’s stewards. “It all gets lost in making a profit from everything and losing sight of what really matters.” I agreed with him.  “I’m David by the way. How do we change it?”

“By having conversations just like this, David,”    I replied.  “One exchange at a time. My name’s Debra.” We shook hands, Covid be darned. “Here we are a King and prophet. We’ll get there. Maybe not in our lifetimes but we will.       I hope.” David laughed and waved. I did the same. The woke would have seen us as adversaries. We saw one another from a kinder truth — two human beings thankful for the blessing of being alive, surrounded by God’s beauty, and uplifted to have met a compatriot in hope.


Here are a few more images from that lovely day:



Anna Scripps Whitcomb Conservatory 


Yin minus yang? Apostrophe?                                                          


                               One scary cacti!



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Through the Eyes of Love

Pausing on a walk, I snapped this ladybug swaying on spent clover blossom. Looking more closely, I saw the heart-shaped markings where I imagined her eyes to be.  Oh, the miracles at our feet when we remember to see through the eyes of love.



photo courtesy of Debra Darvick

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Tiny Tree, Big Impact

Martin and I visited Denver’s botanic gardens recently. It was a marvelous experience as such visits are. Usually bonsai exhibits thrill me but the tag on this sweet little tree startled me into another perspective.

“In training since 1985” read the info above the tree’s Latin and English names. Mentally, I’ve sometimes heard “bonsai” as “bone sigh.”  These two thoughts coalesced and the following haiku began to sprout:                                                                                                             

Not Mine

Almost forty years.
What are they training me for?
Their thoughts of beauty?



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