Breathing Rhythm

They lean in, nestled down in thicket meant to protect; you would miss them, walk right past them, if not attentive, to these gentle creatures  who pause and wonder why we rush past when we are meant to linger, to sway like trees, to lean in like deer, to stay in the shaded pathway andContinue reading “Breathing Rhythm”


“Flowers are the music of the ground.  From earth’s lips spoken without sound.” — Edwin Curran I snipped green stems in angled lines, renewing the vein, a cut required for water, a temporary reprieve before the completion of certain decay. I photographed these charming blooms, profuse with color and releasing the heady aroma of florals,Continue reading “Detached”