Doomed to live and die on the same day, the morning glory is a symbol of resilience and rebirth.
This enchanted morning glory is thriving near a bunch of Natal plum bushes and their fragrant white five-petaled flowers.
The Natal plum is a tropical shrub grown mostly as a flowering landscape specimen, but also known for its small fruits which taste like cranberries and are used in jams and jellies.
Once upon a time when I was in high school, I picked a bushel of the fruits from an empty field and made the most delicious jam but the thorns on the plant almost tore my arms up so I’ve never done it again.
This is a Blue Potato Bush: The flowers are gorgeous but all parts of this part are toxic!
The sweetly scented flowers of Lycianthes rantonnetii, also known as Solanum rantonnetii, blue potato bush, and Paraguay nightshade, grows near a fence in the garden. I cut it back every year which it seems to love because it returns full of flowers that attract bees, hummingbirds, and other pollinators.
Or cotton candy pink. A trivial confession about me…I’ve never actually eaten cotton candy. I’ve seen it made at the fair but I never had any desire to taste it. I do love Hello Kitty, though, and she speaks to me:
“Once upon a time, there was a princess.” — HelloKitty
Last night’s sunset was breathtaking to experience. The sky colors were pure Hello Kitty pink.
I didn’t make it to the beach in time to see the full sunset drop into the horizon, but I went outside in the garden to appreciate all of the resplendent Hello Kitty pink gloriousness.
It was so foggy last night that I could barely see across the street. This morning it revealed hundreds of spider webs shrouding my garden.
I’m all ready for Halloween!
Here are just a few…
The spider webs are literally EVERYWHERE. I hadn’t noticed them before today.
I almost walked right into this one but I looked up just in time to snap a photo. If you look closely, you can see the beaded foggy drops sparkle like diamonds.
No spider web, just three dewdrops on a grape leaf…it looks like rain but it’s created by dense fog.
I didn’t have time to grab a ruler or measuring tape but this lizard was LONG. I actually first thought it was a snake, but my gaze followed the tail all the way to its body. I see these guys every so often, but they’re not as common around here as the smaller ones.
The California Alligator Lizard was named after its large head and big jaws. The alligator lizard really looks like a mix-up between a lizard and a snake with a body twelve inches long or more and most of its size made up of its tail. They’re yellowish-tan with black stripes and a gray belly.
Alligator lizards are carnivores that eat insects, ground beetles, crickets, hornworms, and grasshoppers. They are opportunistic feeders that take advantage of any resource they can find, including cannibalizing their own kind if that’s the most convenient food source. Whatever they catch and can swallow whole is considered fair game, from tiny flies to baby mice.
I read that they bite when cornered, so I’m glad I didn’t get too close. I was once bitten by a smaller lizard that I tried to rescue and that hurt a LOT. I can’t possibly imagine how I’d get this big one off if he latched on to my hand. You can read about that other timeHERE.
I think today is a day I should try to not further agitate the cosmos and the gods.
I had an appointment for yearly lab work so I fasted from about 7pm last night with ZERO coffee this morning. I don’t mind not eating, but I NEED coffee to start my day.
I arrived at the office on time only to discover that I had misread the doctor’s orders and needed the labwork completed NEXT week, not today.
Not today. My coffee-deprived brain had a difficult time comprehending, as I don’t usually make dumb mistakes like that, but when the technician explained it to me, I realize it was entirely my fault which wasn’t a big deal, but sometimes the little screw-ups hit different, you know what I mean?
It tilted my reality for a minute or two until I regained my mental equilibrium. I drove all the way back home, inhaled some French roast, and looked outside to discover the most beautiful day moon staring back at me, possibly to let me know that it was confused, too,
I love day moons because they make absolutely no sense to me, but I’m over the moon (haha) with these photos because I was unable to see the full moon a couple days ago due to overcast skies at night.
Tomorrow, September 29, the full Moon will also be a Supermoon because it’s at the nearest point in its orbit of Earth during the full Moon.
Known as the Harvest Moon, it will also be the year’s fourth and final Supermoon.
If your skies are clear and you can see the moon appear on the eastern horizon, you might notice that it’s orange, which is due to Rayleigh scattering, the deflection of light off molecules of nitrogen and oxygen in the Earth’s atmosphere.
The Harvest moon will be radiating with gratitude, a perfect time to take a few minutes to acknowledge, appreciate, celebrate, and manifest positivity, joy, and abundance.
I took this a couple years ago in early October. I have no idea how I got such an amazing photo, but it’s one of my favorites. I’ll try again tomorrow but I think it might be too cloudy…
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. –Joyce Kilmer
I looked up from weeding the veg garden at green leaves and the bluest sky kissed by the sun. There’s a bird singing somewhere in there but I couldn’t locate it.
I rescued this treasure at the thrift store, an adorable penguin box crafted of Capiz shells from the Philippines. Used extensively for jewelry and even window panes, it’s the shell of the oyster, Placuna placenta.
The way the light hits it is stunning and artistic for such a small thing.
I love little boxes.
And bowls I can fill with owl and hawk feathers I discover in my garden or on walks.
This sort of reminds me of Mary Oliver, “Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”
No darkness here as you can see, but I guess I’ll have to fill my box of nothing with something, probably and predictably rocks or seashells, and then it will no longer be a lonely box of nothing.
I woke up this morning to a glorious blood-red sky.
It was about 6:30 or so, and I realized what day it was.
This was about the same time, twenty-two years ago, that I had taken my first sip of coffee and turned on the news to learn that the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center had been crashed into by hijacked jets.
I woke up my son and while we huddled together watching TV, there were other reported terrorist attacks on the Pentagon and a crash in Pennsylvania.
The September 11 attacks of 2001 caused the deaths of nearly 3000 victims and nineteen hijackers. Thousands more were injured and long-term health effects have arisen as a consequence of the attacks.
This sky is a poignant reminder of that tragic day.
William James Collins is an American poet who served as the Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003.
The Names is his poem about 9/11.
Yesterday, I lay awake in the palm of the night. A soft rain stole in, unhelped by any breeze, And when I saw the silver glaze on the windows, I started with A, with Ackerman, as it happened, Then Baxter and Calabro, Davis and Eberling, names falling into place As droplets fell through the dark. Names printed on the ceiling of the night. Names slipping around a watery bend. Twenty-six willows on the banks of a stream. In the morning, I walked out barefoot Among thousands of flowers Heavy with dew like the eyes of tears, And each had a name -- Fiori inscribed on a yellow petal Then Gonzalez and Han, Ishikawa and Jenkins. Names written in the air And stitched into the cloth of the day. A name under a photograph taped to a mailbox. Monogram on a torn shirt, I see you spelled out on storefront windows And on the bright unfurled awnings of this city. I say the syllables as I turn a corner -- Kelly and Lee, Medina, Nardella, and O'Connor. When I peer into the woods, I see a thick tangle where letters are hidden As in a puzzle concocted for children. Parker and Quigley in the twigs of an ash, Rizzo, Schubert, Torres, and Upton, Secrets in the boughs of an ancient maple. Names written in the pale sky. Names rising in the updraft amid buildings. Names silent in stone Or cried out behind a door. Names blown over the earth and out to sea. In the evening -- weakening light, the last swallows. A boy on a lake lifts his oars. A woman by a window puts a match to a candle, And the names are outlined on the rose clouds -- Vanacore and Wallace, (let X stand, if it can, for the ones unfound) Then Young and Ziminsky, the final jolt of Z. Names etched on the head of a pin. One name spanning a bridge, another undergoing a tunnel. A blue name needled into the skin. Names of citizens, workers, mothers and fathers, The bright-eyed daughter, the quick son. Alphabet of names in a green field. Names in the small tracks of birds. Names lifted from a hat Or balanced on the tip of the tongue. Names wheeled into the dim warehouse of memory. So many names, there is barely room on the walls of the heart. -- Billy Collins
Full of #gratitude and being #grateful with a poem by one of my favorites, Becky Hemsley, to help dispel any lingering Saturday blues and also because it’s too hot to stay outside.
Photo of Big Sur by Enchanted Seashells
When the ocean waves engulf you And there’s water all around And when you feel you’re in so deep You might as well swim down When the forest’s looming darkly And you can’t see your way through When the trees are overbearing And they’re closing in on you When every path is dangerous And treacherous to tread And you decide to stop And stay forever lost instead
Well…
I hope the sea is sapphires That buoy you with their blue I hope they shine a little Of their precious light on you I hope the forest prides itself On all its emerald leaves And helps you see your brilliance Through the darkness of the trees I hope your paths are gilded And are lined with golden hues Where ruby roses grow through grass That shines with diamond dew I hope you feel the sunshine And the warmth that it possesses I hope you see the way the clouds Are shining at their edges ‘Cause there’s richness in the darkness, When you’re lost, beneath the surface There’s treasure waiting for you And I promise you it’s worth it So don’t give up or in ‘Cause pressure builds a precious stone You’ve everything you need And you are stronger than you know So please keep going up and through Keep walking, swimming, climbing And keep on searching clouds for silver Sewn into their linings —Becky Hemsley
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 