linked: hope

Saturday evening I sat out in the setting sun and picked at a sea of never ending weeds. My hands were caked with dirt and the stain of green, so much so that I was surprised at how sore and tender they were the day after. In the middle of my dirty work, the neighbor's sprinklers spurted to life. Because I live in a wind tunnel, I watched the water catch wind and mist everything in my yard. Normally I do not mind this (free water) but this time it happened to water exactly where I needed to be weeding. 

So I sat and waited.

When the sprinklers finished their cycle, I looked up to witness every flower, blade, and leaf dusted with a million, glittering, circles of light. Their delicate glimmering caused me to smile. I imagined this is what pixie dust must look like...

Pulling weeds has always been a teacher for me in the area of my own personal "weed pulling". For example, pulling weeds has taught me that if I fail to pull a personal weed up by its roots, it will always grow back in the soil of my heart. (Such a hard truth, especially in the areas of hurt, anger, and bitterness.)

So here is what impressed me on this day:

As I look back at the moment, I now see that that this is what Hope looks like when I find myself in the dirty work of pulling my life's weeds. There I am, entrenched in the soil, bent over, hot from the sun,  caked with mud, wondering (and whining) if there will ever come a day when I do not have to pull weeds. (Please, don't you just wish you could pull a weed once and then never have to come back again?) In the middle of my labor and toil, suddenly Hope arrives in the form of a million points of Light. Awash with beauty, completely unexpected. It comes in the form of an answered prayer, a encouragement from a friend, a song on the radio, a miraculous provision. All simple reminders from God that I am loved, watched over, and never abandoned to the eternal dirty work of pulling weeds. This is Hope that sustains me.

I believe there is no place of dirt and darkness that Hope cannot invade. No weed-like burden that Hope cannot relieve. Yes, there is an amount of toil that we experience in this life, the pulling of weeds, or the dirtying of our hands in the messes that seem to show up like weeds. But Hope is the eternal flame that God places in our hearts to whisper to us that, though we may have earthly pain and struggles, unanswered questions, our lives are not without purpose and meaning.

We are loved.

We are loved.

We are loved.

Praying that whatever back-breaking, weed-pulling situation you find yourself in, you will, today, experience Hope in the middle of it. That you will look up and see a million points of Light dusting your situation with the promise that you are loved, watched over, and never abandoned to the eternal dirty work of pulling weeds. Praying that this will sustain you as only real Hope can.

******

Today is a link up day with two of my blogging friends, Michelle and Stacey. Michelle chose the theme for this week, which was "Hope". I have to say, this was hard. I took these pictures above without the intention of capturing "hope". It wasn't until I uploaded that they spoke to my work of "pulling weeds". I "hope" it makes sense to y'all. :)

I am eager to see how the gals interpreted this theme this week!

For Michelle's July 7th post, click here.

For Stacey's July 7th post, click here.

i heart nature

Nature. See how she wears her heart on her sleeve?

Just for me.

Though I could not keep her to myself. Had to share with you.

Be blessed.

A little belief in myself does me good

The massive dump of rain over the last month has created a frenzy of growth with all things green and weedy. Grass that was an inch tall yesterday is now a foot tall today. I'm not joking. The kids and I were in the field across the street and I felt like I was in a new land. New wagon tracks had to be forged, and you almost needed a compass to navigate the landscape. Above: a small, budding, yellow, flowering, weed-grass, specimen of something I spotted in the sea of green. I love how his arms are outstretched towards the winter sun, as if to say, "Hallelujah, the sun has come!" Hallelujah indeed.

Below: a picture I have posted before at this post. Random? No. I am going to share with you how proud I am of myself. (Not easy for me to do.) I regularly follow one of the most popular photography/home/nesting blogs in the country called thepioneerwoman.com . The creator, Ree Drummond, basically lives my fantasy life: she lives on a ranch somewhere in the beautiful frontier of America, she cooks, is an amazing photographer, and has a hubby who wrangles cattle. Oh and she runs a lodge and home schools her kids. (Although that last part is not a part of my fantasy.) A few days ago on her photography page she posted an "assignment": share a photo that demonstrates a shallow depth of field. (That basically means the subject in the foreground is sharp and the background is blurry. Both pix I shared today are an example of that.) Anyways, I usually never consider submitting photos to contests as I always feel quite intimidated. (I know, working on that.) But this time I thought I'd give it a try and have fun with it. I went through my photos and picked one I thought demonstrated what she was asking for. This morning I went on her site to see the groups of photos she had picked for today's "winners" and was absolutely shocked to see mine among them. Of course my immediate thought was, "Look at all the other beautiful amazing photos she chose!" I swallowed my insecurities (with the help of hubby) and smiled at myself for my little accomplishment. 

So I am posting it again below, but if you'd like to see the real deal just click here .  

And please check out the rest of her site...especially if you are interested in learning some basic photography stuff. Her tips and tricks she posts are very easy to understand. And once you go through them, you can join me participating in her future assignments.

The thing about the rain...

...is that it leaves the ground soggy and ripe for guys like these. You should see the carpet of them in the park across the street. I walked over during a break in the rain, camera in hand, praying for something at which to point my camera. I spotted a million little golden mushrooms poking up out of the grass and was about to walk toward them, when out of the corner of my eye I saw, what I first believed, was a stray piece of litter, or a lost softball, resting on one of the sloping hills. As I drew closer to it I realized it was a ginormous mushroom the size of my hand, standing alone...though a foot away a neighbor was beginning to push up from the soil in a very alien-like manner that left me with the creeps.
I know this picture does not accurately portray the reality of how huge he was. It was hard to give it context standing alone in the bland green grass against the backdrop of a bleh grey sky. I had to shoot from the hip from this one as I could not very well prostrate myself on the wet grass. (Totally came unprepared for finding a massive mushroom on the wet lawn.) I took a million pictures trying to get a good angle. And, once again, I was wishing for a macro lens.
I came home and tried to make it "more interesting." So there you go.

The thing about the rain, is that it pushes me to use my creative eye a bit. Maybe that ain't such a bad thing...


p.s. Oh, and you should have seen the little black slug munching away at the base of the mushroom--all sheltered from the drizzle and wind underneath his very own spiffy umbrella. Again, if I had that macro lens I would have gotten that shot for you. But alas, you'll have to use your own creative eye for that one.

safe inside

Today was another crazy California stormy day...we actually had a tornado alert. What?!?! It was enough for great Grandpa to call me and make sure we were okay. Because, you know, the Bay Area just doesn't get this much excitement! (I did not witness a tornado, or even a funnel cloud, just lots of lightening and thunder that followed.)

My son and I brought home some new "friends" yesterday afternoon. They now reside on my upstairs hallway counter, which sits below two large windows, so the light (I hope) is perfect for them. Though we shall see...my history with indoor living things is not good. My son was excited, however, to care for them as he loves plants.  (Grammy, aren't you proud?)

So today as the weather outside stirred and ravaged the landscape, our little friends sat serenely in their window and watched it all.  And I was glad to be inside with them.

When life hands you a mud puddle...

...you turn it into a Monet.

At least this was my philosophy today.

The Bay Area is, at this moment, being slammed with rain, thunder, and lightening. All usually very exciting, but not really for a cooped up photographer who thrives on outdoor natural light when using her camera. There was a brief break in the clouds so I stepped out onto my back doorstep to catch some rays and point my camera at something. The mud puddle at my feet was my only option people--I was not about to venture out further in my slippers. So I aimed my camera somewhere over the puddle and clicked a few off and then stepped back inside as the rain drops returned. What to do with a picture of an exciting mud puddle?

Tweak it into my own Monet.

Perhaps one day it will sell at an auction house for millions?

Everything needs a little somethin' to grow

This is what I thought as I sat on the threshold of my back door, dodging rain drops, attempting to capture this jack-and-the-bean-stalk-weed drinking the raindrops. I think he was growing inches by the seconds. Weeds can do that. After one day of rain all the little weed seeds burst forth and shoot up so fast you have barely had time to blink. (Darn those weeds.)

I also thought about how frustrated I was trying to capture those raindrops with crystal sharp precision. (When your aperture is wide open in low low light your range of focus is just limited and your lens is not at its sharpest, and I wasn't about to set up a tripod...details.) I thought upon that fact that the last few times I have used my camera I have experienced this frustration of not being able to get close enough because my lens is just not built for that super macro shot.

And then when I realized I have thought this to myself on more than one occasion the seed of desire for a spiffy new macro lens was planted in the soil of my heart.

It is just a tiny seed now because of course I need to find some money to water it and make it grow. And it's a safe bet that my seed will not be growing inches by the second.

Actually, it will be like a fruit seed that takes years to produce a tree that will yield fruit.

I need to pick a less expensive hobby.

my sliver of heaven on earth

In down town Los Gatos there is a little sliver of a place called Natural Creations. It is a little alleyway dedicated to pottery, fountains, plants, and garden art. When I walk through the ancient wooden gates into the cool air of the roofed alley I am met with the sound of water trickling and the crunch of gravel under my feet. It is a peaceful place abundant with thriving green life, moss covered wood, and growing vines. (It's almost difficult to tell what is for sale and what is a part of the existing structure.) I met the owner today, Sharon, who graciously let me wander for an hour. I stepped out back, through old wooden sliding doors, into the "outdoor" alley. I could have stayed forever. (I know owning a store is tough in these economic times but I am deeply envious of Sharon's job.)

Wire baskets nesting along the back alley fence...

The filtered light nurtures the many ferns and shade plants outside.

I loved finding these little twin pots, sitting on the ground, tucked into a little nook.

In the very back, weathered pottery is stacked, waiting to hold life.

A little water plants greets you along the gravel path.

Even in her work shed there are little family members decorating the window sill.

Rod iron scrolled baskets line the paths and hold ivy, or a winter Begonia.

On my way out I had to snap a picture of this ivy that greets the visitors.
Just beyond you can see the city life that greets you as you exit.
(Such a juxtaposition.)

It is not often that I get to visit this place. But today was the second time in a month. It is such a balm for a tired body and soul. Surely there will be a place like this in heaven?
For now, it is my sliver of heaven on earth.

***********************

If you are ever in Los Gatos, stop by Sharon's store:

108A N. Santa Cruz Avenue, Los Gatos, California
She is open Tue-Sat from 10am-6pm
and Sunday from 12pm-4pm

Maybe you will see me there. :)

Leftovers

I am of the camp that L.O.V.E.'s leftovers. I often make a double portion of dinner so that I can have extras for lunch, or better yet, save in my freezer for one of those crazy days when I just do not have time to slave away in the kitchen. (Bring on the microwave!)

So, today I offer you my leftovers. I just got home. My feet are tired. I did not get the chance to even pick up my camera, let alone "slave away" in the editing room cooking up some fun recipes. Even if you are of the camp that does not like leftovers (how can you not like leftovers I ask?!?!?), I hope you will at least like these...

A miss and a gift

California is bracing itself for it's first storm. Not a raging one, but our first fall rain with ominous clouds and a chill wind stirring the air. (Totally Halloween'ish) I was walking through my family room looking out at my lonely back yard. 

Spotted: the abandoned kids' wheel barrel. I should probably bring that in, and the golf club too, I said to myself. 

I sighed at the desolate yard and the lonely wheel barrel when a black bird flitted down and perched perfectly on the handle. 

Come on, look closely...can you see him? 

Well then, imagine it? 

Wow, I know, what a beautiful picture that would have been. That small little life amongst the deserted landscape. 

Yes, a total miss. I was completely, totally, utterly bummed.

I went and snatched a slice of bread and tossed out bits, trying to coax him back. Birds like bread right? But no one came. While resigning to the fact that I (and you) would have to settle with a mental photograph of the beauty of that moment, I noticed...

...peeking over my back fence. A lonely Morning Glory creeping over the fence to say hello. A small gift of beauty given back in return for what was lost.

p.s. While writing, I got up to grab a snack and noticed that all the little neighborhood Wrens had discovered the bread crumb feast. Several of them were bouncing through the dirt, into the wagon. Picture me doing the army crawl on my family room floor, camera in hand, coming up just over the ledge of the window to capture those winged friends. 

With their six sense they saw my big fat lens, and me, and took off. Darn that sixth sense.

Have you heard that birds have a "zone of tolerance". They each have a measurable distance that they will let you come near before their "flight" instinct kicks in. Wrens have a very large "zone of tolerance".

Pigeons and Seagulls have a very small "zone". That comes as no surprise I'm sure. Any trip to the beach or park and you feel like letting your hubby get out that pellet gun he's always itching to use.

Stem Study

As promised per yesterday's post...I went back to the patch at sunset and searched for more stems. I took too many to post. These were my favorite. Hmmm, I think I've started a collection. Maybe someday I will open my own gallery and do a show: "A Study in Stems".

Pumpkin Patch

We met Grammy and Papa today at our favorite pumpkin patch. It's not the big flashy one that's in town, but rather it's on the outskirts of town, much more mellow with a home-grown feel. We have gone there over the last several years and I love that the husband and wife that own the farm are there, running their little pumpkin patch: she, selling the pumpkins, and he, driving the tractor hay rides through the corn fields. During the summer they have an awesome produce stand where they sell the fruit of their hard work. 

My son is now 10. This means that I have been shooting pumpkin patches for the last ten years. How many pumpkins can one shoot? Every year I take the obligatory snap of my kids picking out their pumpkins, but it's a challenge to not take the same boring pictures. :) Of course we are usually out there in full bright sunlight so I have to succumb to the light or try and work with it. 

I tackled two of my issues with the first picture below. First off, during this trip I became obsessed with the pumpkin stems. How unique they were, like a finger print. No two were a like! I could have spent all day capturing just the stems. Secondly, I had my husband stand in the sunlight to cast a shadow on this little guy. You work with what you've got!

When we first arrived we were greeted with a squadron of geese. There were hundreds that lifted off from behind the corn fields and sailed over the pumpkin patch in a noisy ruckus. It was quite a commotion. Of course I was not ready with my camera so I just popped of the lens and aimed up in their general direction. They were definitely migrating to warmer pasture and it was cool to see.

Zach preferred using the wagon to carry his finds.

There were a million sunflowers of varying names lining the patch. I liked the buds the best.

My uh...princess-kitty? She insisted on wearing them. 

Headin' back to purchase our pumpkins.

He doesn't need a wheel barrel. He's got muscles.

I am going back tonight at sunset when the light is a bit more gentle and soft on the eyes. 

All those sunflowers and pumpkin stems will be waiting for me. 

Neighbor's Limes

Above: a little something of my neighbor's drooping over our shared fence. This is not the neighbor that I have written about before. No attempting my botanist skills to name this growing thing. I don't mind this lime tree, I just seriously have no idea why someone would want to grow a lime tree?! In our tiny backyards I just can't imagine someone saying, "Honey, let's plant a lime tree in this little space...because out of all the fruit trees we could plant, I really really love limes."

Harvest Time

Harvest time at Solis Winery. I arrived at 7am with some members of my local photography club. (A beautiful morning, but I seriously need to invest in some of those cold weathered gloves especially made for photographers. It was chilly.) 

Just plucked from the vine, waiting to be crushed.

Vineyard at dawn.

Triplets.

Perfect clusters waiting to be harvested. 

An hour later they were snipped and tossed into the crate to await "the crusher."

I loved finding the old tendrils of vine, their search for something to clasp onto now long gone.

One of the harvesters. His partner is on the other side of the vine snipping from that side. They quickly made their way down the row, chit chatting along the way.

What a great way to start my week.

Autumn is creeping in...

...right into my front yard.

Just as I eagerly await spring, I eagerly await autumn--my most favorite time of the year.

 I am often disappointed by summer's lingering touch. In my opinion, its welcome is well worn out by now. (I'm a California girl that doesn't fit the typical mold.) I look forward to crisp sunny days, pants and sweaters, cozy socks and the smell of autumn air, the crunch of crispy leaves.

But alas, living in California, autumn is but just a short wink of time, a few weeks, and then the dreary grey of winter waltzes in and I am sad.

I must cherish autumn while I can.

My neighbor's tree is more eager to race into autumn.

He is showing off his colors already.

Yippy for Autumn!

If it's alien looking, my neighbor is growing it...

I pride myself in my small amount of plant and flora knowledge. This exists mainly from growing up in close proximity to my green thumb of a mother and aunt. I can name most nursery plants and some trees. I recognize a summer vegetable by its tiny sprout. 

But my neighbor's choice in landscaping often leaves me stumped. Clearly this...ummmm...plant is getting ready to burst forth with some red bloom. Perhaps I am just not as "knowledgeable" as I thought and it is quite clear to you all (mom? Debbie?). But truly, truly, I am left to wonder and guess, as I stare out my window into our shared yard, just what alien thing is morphing now.

p.s. And for all those wondering with me about this...Chinese Celery. Did I not convey its celery'ish-ness?! I was close!!

roots and fruit

Grandpa shared his bounty of summer fruit. 

Free fruit is the best.

(I need to learn how to make lemonade.)

Michaela and I picked weeds after the sprinklers loosened the soil.

It is so rewarding to pick weeds when they slide right out of the earth.

And I think roots are fascinating... 

all that intricate growth going on beneath the soil that we can't see.

I have always believed that the "root bears the fruit". 

What lies in our hearts will come to light 

and bear fruit to taste or fruit to discard.

Seeing these two pictures today reminded me of this.

What kind of roots grow beneath your soil?