My granddaughter and bubbles.
It was a marvelous Mother’s Day.
It’s been mostly overcast and rainy for at least two weeks now.
I’m discovering that the weather greatly affects my pain level, ever since having my spine fused. Despite the pain, I shall redeem this time.
Today when the sun peeked out briefly, I stood outside even while the rain was still falling, so desperate to feel sun on my face.
Then the clouds moved in again and I tucked back in the darkness of my work space. But places don’t have to stay colorless and uncheered. I got out the beads.
They glistened and captured every speck of light. I didn’t want any light to get away.
I made petals and leaves and flower centers.
I use children’s teacups and dishes to hold flower components while I work. Here a child’s teacup holds stamens.
These vintage flower centers belonged to my grandmother. I’m looking forward to using them. Thank you so much, dear sister Donna for sending them!
Even though it is dark and rainy outside and there are no flowers blooming in the window, I have flowers blossoming on the table.
French Beaded flowers in a shoebox await stems and leaves.
Sometimes there’s a really brutal winter. The rains are torrential, the winds searing, the snow deep. But then comes the spring.
I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living.
Wait for the LORD; Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the LORD. Psalm 27: 13-14
Always the harvest.
We stayed at Sunset Beach in North Carolina for a week last September. We’ve visited plenty of times over the years but for the first time ever, we saw the kind of sunset for which the island got its name.
There are no words to describe the glorious colors and beauty. It literally took my breath away. Please click each image to see it large. At the top left of the photo will be the original size. Click that number link to see the full size photo. And then imagine this scene filling all the space and sky in front of you, with the constant and rhythmic whoosh as each wave washes ashore, frothed in color.
These photos were all taken the same evening. The colors stretched across the sky, from shades of pink and blue in the east to vibrant oranges and yellows in the west and changed by the minute. I can not believe that the beauty displayed on this earth is by chance, but rather by the artistic hand of the Creator of the Universe.
I don’t know why I got up so early. I didn’t have to drive anyone anywhere.
I don’t know why I looked out the window to the back corner where the tire swing hung instead of getting a cup of coffee and sitting at the table.
I don’t know why I picked up my camera and stumbled out into the cold fog and walked across all that wet dew, soaking my shoes.
But when I got there, I knew why I was there. Some places are like that. You have to get there first, and then you know.
The sun was lovely and full today. So my walls were sprinkled with dancing flecks of light.
Usually around this time of year I start missing moving light. During spring, summer and fall the sunlight splashes off leaves outside and they are constantly moving light around. Even if I’m not looking outside, my eye catches those dancing specks, like sparks of a warm fire. In winter the light outside is so still that it makes the house seem cold and dark. I miss the flickering!
So that’s when I get out the mirror ball. It is five inches in diameter, covered with mirrors like a mini disco ball. I hang it with a thin cord from the curtain rod in the sunny window. The ball is always gently moving and sometimes I give it a good spin. The squares of light dash all the way across the dining room to the living room walls, filling my space with movement and light.
Even when there isn’t much light, such as the overcast sky today, the ball still spins merrily in the window, reflecting the sky. The room is all sparkled up now.
From the kitchen window, the neighbor’s field was lit with sunset yellow past my shady backyard. I walked to the back of the property to get a better picture of the shade-framed yellows and found that the view wasn’t as nice as from my kitchen window. I looked up to discover the sun lit up one spot in the dark corner – a red vine twined around the old tree, aglow in the sunset. If I had stayed in my kitchen, I never would have seen the flame.
The sun barely enters our north-facing house most of the year, but from October to March, we get a little bit more.
The afternoon rays passed by my desk too swiftly today so I balanced a book on the edge to extend the desk. Then I hung a little plastic chandelier ornament to capture the light for as long as possible. A glass chandelier would splash splinters of sun everywhere but I’m content with my little plastic ornament until I get a glass one made.