Tis a Hopeful Season

It was Christmas Eve 1934. Large snowflakes were gently drifting downward to the streets of Manhattan. The stores were closing early, the sidewalks bustling with last minute shoppers. Albert had been a Macy's Santa going on ten years. He and his wife Katherine had truly epitomized "Mr. and Mrs. Klaus", bringing as much year-round joy to all as they possibly could. They owned a small grocery on Amsterdam, and had provided food to those in need since the crash of '29.

Christmas for Albert was different this year. Dear Katherine had unexpectedly passed away in April. Albert had quickly drifted into depression, and took to the 'drink'. His robust laughter as the children sat on his lap masked an enormously deep sadness.

As he exited the side door of Macy's, he retrieved the flask from his pocket, and took a long draw from the narrow opening. The warmth of the whiskey would keep him warm on his long walk home to the lonely apartment above the store on Amsterdam.

He decided to take a different route home, walking north along busy 5th Ave. As he crossed 53rd he could hear the rich sound of the St. Thomas Church organ accompanied by hundreds of voices inside..."Away in a manger..." A small voice told him to "go inside". So, Albert, the once happy, now sad, white bearded fat man rolled through those church doors...perhaps the right doors at the right time.

This is my Christmas Day installment of the prompted, creative writing exercise, Saturday Centus. The prompt is the bold italicized part.

Peace and blessings, with hopes for better days ahead.

Namaste, jeff c...

Amanae

As Elven lives go, Amanae's had been quite remarkable. Born to revered and powerful parents (her father of the Dwinghymn House, her mother of Tyrmitore ancestry), she had walked a path of remarkable beauty and wisdom. Simply, Amanae's presence and powers were unsurpassed. There was but one thing left for her to do in life...mate with a human. The child from such a union would possess great knowledge and power and would rise to prominence in her 'House'. This life goal could mean her demise, but after long and careful consideration, she knew it was her destiny.

Amanae walked down Mulberry Street to a brightly lit house on the corner of Elm. Inside the Stewarts were hosting the annual Mulberry St. Christmas costume block party. As Amanae entered through the foyer, all eyes turned, gazing on her radiant beauty. She at once knew that finding a Nieve would be easy. As she entered the living room, she heard the rather snippy Ellen Jones whisper to Ann Lewis, " what was she thinking? OMG! Elves are so 2009." Amanae thought to herself, "Eshui'du, yes 2009, the year before that and the centuries before that. This night was going to be fun."

Elven glossary:

Amanae...beautiful whisper

Dwinghymn...walkers in the forgotten ways

Tyrmitore...mistresses of the moon

Nieve...lover

Eshui'du...dumbass

From the Red-Shoe Diaries

Time once again for Saturday Centus. I am a bit late in posting, and as usual a bit over my 100 word limit. I am doomed to fail this class! Nonetheless, I forge ahead, seeking forgiveness for my academic shortcomings. The prompt for this week is in bold italics. The remainder is from the caverns of my mind.

It had been a little over a year since I'd last visited Auntie Nell. My work in San Francisco was far too consuming, leaving me little time for the true pleasures of life. Nell and I shared many pleasures;our unique shared fondness for shoes was front and center. While she was affectionately known as the "Imelda Marcos of Manhattan", I was less affectionately known as the chick with too many shoes. Deep down I knew they were just jealous.

Nell's passing had come as a bit of a shock. I would now be left with only the sweet sadness of memories, and countless pairs of shoes we had picked out together...save one pair that never made it back to San Francisco...an exquisite pair of bright red snakeskin, pointed-toe, Jimmy Choo pumps. Where they had gone remained a mystery.

I entered the Greenwich Village Funeral Home and went directly to Nell's viewing room. I requested to see her sweet, loving face one last time. In keeping with her often outrageous approach to life...and death, she had requested to be interred in a custom built, Bergdorf Goodman shoebox-shaped casket. An involuntary gasp of shock escaped my lips when I opened the 'shoebox' and saw the pointy-toed shoes...those bright red Jimmy Choos that would forever be in my memories...but not on my feet.

What's In a Horoscope?

Another Saturday has arrived and with it another glorious opportunity to explore my creative writing wherewithal. Yes, its Saturday Centus time...a time when we are given a writing prompt, and are put to task to write a 100 word or less response. This week's theme is Daily Horoscopes. We are to creatively respond to a randomly selected horoscope. This presents a particular dilemma for me, for I am an Aquarian, and not prone to do anything in purely random fashion. I am however quite prone to seeing connectivity in everything, and so with this prompt, I find myself connecting some dots. So, without further ado, I will take the leap and see where this week's assignment leads me.

Many years ago (perhaps during my college days at Wyoming) I cultivated a habit of reading my daily horoscope, found in the local Laramie Boomerang. Each morning, and for many months, I would eagerly anticipate opening a fresh morning paper, and head straight to the horoscope section. Why, you might ask? Well, this particular astrologer was writing about me in an uncanny, spot on fashion. How could this person know so much about me?

One day, and not a day that seemed different than any other, this deep, soulful connection with my own personal astrologer stopped. Was the newspaper purchasing astrology information from a different source? Perhaps...yet what I have found is that you can read a dozen different horoscopes on any given day and end up...well, end up terribly confused. The science of Astrology is less than perfect.

What is consistent in them is what binds us together as human beings...our common need, desire to give and get love, our desire for security (=money), and our inherent desire for creativity. We are truly of one body, one spirit, interchangeable one to another based on these yearnings for love, security and creative expression.

So, now that I have solved a big chunk of the world's problems (I'll leave it up to you to act on it), I will do something quite random, wholly in the spirit of this week's assignment. Mrs C has sack full of oriental fortune cookies intended for her Pre-K class. I am opening the sack, and without looking in, I am randomly picking out a fortune...my fortune. With some difficulty (as if these are X-rated fortunes, intended for adult eyes only), I am opening the cellophane, finding a broken cookie (ohhh, that can't be a good sign). I am plucking the narrow strip of white paper from the broken cookie..."Be yourself, and you will always be in fashion".

Note to Jenny...sorry I went over 100 words. You can choose to blame it on my rusty writing skills, since I have missed a few weeks. OR, you can blame it on the fact that I am an Aquarian, and tend towards non-conformity. Either way, and in keeping with my Aquarian roots, I can take the punishment. I am bending over now...

A Thanksgiving Story

Time again for another prompted writing exercise for Saturday Centus. The prompt is in bold italics. The rest is my creative response in 100 words or less. Please visit the other crafty responses at Saturday Centus.

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It seemed forever since he'd seen his cousins in Tennessee. Mr. Tom T. Urkee needed a vacation, and what better place to spend Thanksgiving than with his wild mountain cousins. He left his home at Esbenshade Farms, hopped the "Pennsylvanian" in Lancaster headed for Philly, and then a quick transfer to the "Crescent" and points south.

The "Crescent" left the Pennsylvania Station about a quarter to four. Tom T. read a magazine, and then he was in Baltimore. He had dinner in the diner...nothing could be finer. Next stop, ham and eggs in Raleigh, North Carolina.

After breakfast, Tom paid the bill and walked directly to the ticket counter...

"Pardon me,said Tom T. Urkee, is that the Chattanooga Choo-Choo?"

"Yessir, Track 29".

A Squirrel Eye View

We are never lacking for new and interesting places in which to find reflections. This delightful squirrel was snacking at my bird feeder. After loading the pictures on my computer, I looked into it's eye...lo and behold there was a reflection of the sky and my home. Does it get any crazier than this? I'll keep looking...

Peace and Blessings

...and thanks to James for providing this wonderful reflection photo meme, Weekend Reflections.

Liquid Reflections

These photographs are posted in response to the weekly reflection photography blog, Weekend Reflections. WF is sponsored by James at Newtown Area Photo.

Banshees and Hellhounds

Maggie left the well-lit street, turning onto the woodland path that led to her house. The moon was full, the trees rustling in the strong breeze. The shadows and sounds reminded her of the stories her mum and dad use to tell her...stories about Banshees and Hellhounds and other mythical creatures of the night. Just as Maggie wondered if these sounds could truly be mourning Banshees, she saw, out of the corner of her eye, two red glowing...and then another, and another, on both sides of the path. She began to walk faster, and faster. She feared turning around, lest some horrible creature grab her. Fast walking turned to running...

"Honey, are you ok...would you like me to stop reading?"

"This is the scariest story I have ever heard mum, but please don't stop."

This story was written as a response to the weekly, prompted, writing exercise,Saturday Centus. It is brought each week by Miss Jenny.

Jeff, Tennessee

This photograph, taken in downtown Chattanooga TN, is posted in response the the weekly photo meme, Weekend Reflections. Thanks to James for hosting this.

A Fish Eye View

Shot through my Fish Eye lens...looking across the Walnut Street bridge, the world's longest pedestrian bridge, located in Chattanooga TN.

This photo is posted in response to the weekly meme, Sunday Bridges, found at bayphoto.blogspot.com.

Magical Night, Part 3

Durin knocked on the door.

"Trick or treat!" they shouted as the door opened.

As she proffered the basket of sweet goodies, Mrs. Mulligan called out, "Byron, you must come see these wonderful Faery costumes." Scarcely had Mr. Mulligan risen from his chair than he heard Mrs. Mulligan exclaim, "Oh my!", as she watched our trio of flittering Faeries fly up and away into the moonlit night with the whole basket of goodies.

This three part story is presented in response to the weekly, prompted, creative writing meme, Saturday Centus. This wonderful exercise is brought to us by Jenny Matlock.

Magical Night, Part 2

Rani, Durin and Fira flew about in the trees that lined Maple Street.

"Oh Rani and Durin, how I would love to eat some candy", said Fira.

"But Fira, we were told never to try and mingle with humans", exclaimed Durin.

"And except for our wings, we are naked", said Rani.

Fira, a quite magical seamstress, promptly cloaked our mischievous trio in garments of sewn, red maple leaves. They quickly left the trees and lit on the front stoop of a large, old white house.

Magical Night, Part 1

It was a cool and crisp Halloween night. Children were scurrying about, filling their Halloween baskets with generous amounts of candy. As they ran from house to house in their colorful costumes, little did they know that their neighborhood was home to a clan of Faeries.

Fairies have been known to enjoy sweet treats, and on this particular night, three young Faeries decided to venture into the human world.

Sepia Pinnacle Against the Sky

"Sepia pinnacles

against the sky...

A different view

through the finder...

and out the fish's eye.

Man's work here

never changing

Against nature's backdrop

forever changing..."

This photograph is posted in response to James's weekly photography meme, Weekend Reflections. I encourage you to visit and perhaps participate in this wonderful exercise and exploration in the world of reflection photography.

Peace...

Namaste...

When I See This, I See Me

It is no coincidence that my first trip to Writer's Island brings me to this wonderful photograph. When I see this, I see me. So how is it that this can be?

I am a photographer. I have spent many hours studying the techniques, pouring over photo after photo of photographers who reached their photographic prime before the wholesale advent of color photography. What they leave us is a vast array of greyscale, monochromatic treasure.

Black and white, sepia...many, often confusing, names for what are simply photographs that lack what I refer to as 'natural color'. The early progenitors of the photographic arts simply lacked equipment to bring us subjects in their 'natural color'. Because of this lack of technology, what they could bring to bear, was attention to light, detail and emotion that is often missing in color photography.

My friends and family might suggest that I create way too much monochromatic material...that somehow this monochromatic obsession speaks to my frame of mind. Perhaps...except there are those brief moments when the colors are striking, and get my attention, and I will lift the curtain on my monochrome world...

Peace and blessings, and "welcome" to my blog...

Check out the musings at writersisland.wordpress.com

Room In My Mind

It is a Saturday,

and time once again,

for Saturday Centus

with my 'Centurion' friends.

With a prompt we are lead

to write creatively,

with Miss Jenny, our teacher,

guiding us lovingly.

Using only 100 words, or less,

each one of us trying

to do our best.

I urge you to go

and check out SC,

where you will find prose,

and some poetry.

Without further ado,

I'll give what I've got,

hot off the presses,

terribly hot.

Room In My Mind

I pace the floor

of this room

in my mind...

A small space

i've created

that no one can find.

Create it indeed

with no windows or door...

Foolish planning I think

as I pace the floor.

What will I do

if I decide

this is not best?

Being in this room

in my mind

where I thought

i might rest.

I try to cry out

I scream, I shout.

Yet there is no one

to hear me,

no one about.

If I had a hammer

i'd bust my way out.

With no windows, no door,

no tools to free me...

i'm resigned to this plight,

this absurd destiny.

All of a sudden

a sound from above!

The bird has returned,

my mental 'white dove'...

has brought renewed hope,

and, quite possibly,

love...

Reflections On Love

IMHO one of the finest things a photographer can accomplish is "freezing" the moment...a moment of love's expression. For it is in that moment wherein lies the deepest of human emotion, feeling...love...so elusive, so indescribable, so without words. We never really know what came before that moment nor what the future will bring. All we are able to do is capture but a brief, momentary vision of what is...the 'now' of love...the 'Tao' of love...

The couple in this picture captured my attention as lovers often do, by their togetherness and their singular expression of that togetherness...and in this case the lovely setting, their bright clothing, and as a secondary feature the reflection that the bridge above casts to the rippling water.

Peace and blessings

I've been tagged

I've been tagged! Now this is an interesting concept. Kat at Emptynester has tagged me to participate in a meme started byThe Kid in the Front Row which is called "A 30 Sentence Kid In The Front Row Story, by 28 Authors." Want to see the rules? Clickhere.
Basically, the "Kid" starts and ends the story. The rest of us complete it one sentence at a time. So without further ado, here is my contribution at #11. I'm tagging CJ at "Small Stories and Stuff" to continue the story.

cj's Small Stories and Stuff...http://smallstoriesandstuff.blogspot.com/

1. Jane never expected to visit Belarus, but it was the only possible solution after what had happened.

2. Her lonely planet guide had advised her that it was a great place for birdwatching- so she packed her binoculars- Todd would have been proud, had he not been lying in a coma.

3. Poor Todd; Jane remembered the incident so well: he had spotted a rare long-whiskered owlet, had ran out into the street to snap a photo, and had thusly been hit by an ice cream truck.

4. Except the ice cream truck was actually a roasted salmon!

5. Upon seeing this strange occurrence, a Portuguese fisherman who happened to be standing on the other side of the street (and who was also, coincidentally, the resident expert on salmon) ran to scene and called 911, prompting Todd's speedy - albeit smelly - rescue.

6. Naturally, Jane was distraught over the entire salmon/ice-cream truck affair , moreover considering that she was the one who had wanted the photo of that owlet; they were both avid birdwatchers, but she was particularly fond of the owlet.

7. She had gone off owlets since then, and as she checked into the little hotel by the river, she wondered if she could find solace in the azure tit, a beautiful bird that, while easily spotted and hardly rare, at least had a name that sometimes made her giggle.

8. Surrounded by beautiful little azure tits as she wrote in her journal to un-bird-en herself of thoughts of fish, and fowl, and Todd (who was slowly recovering, and would join her soon); and as room service arrived with her vegetarian plate; her phone vibrated, signaling a text....

9. Alas, the careful study of azure tits would have to wait as an urgent text message from the manager of the treatment center where Todd was hospitalized informed her that something truly extraordinary was happening to him

10. Please return to hospital stat - patient awake, agitated, requesting nurse to masticate and regurgitate his dinner - wings noted sprouting from back, need your expertise in birds ASAP!
11.When I returned to the hospital and Todd's room, I was shocked to find that his nurse was a female member of The Blue Man Group.
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30. The three of them left as quickly as they could and vowed never to return again, especially if Jane was in town.

The Great Escape, Part 3

After a few minutes baby Huey opened his one eye and hesitantly looked down. To his surprise he had grown...Legs! He quickly looked over at Grandpa, who had fallen fast asleep. Grandpa had legs too!

He hollered, "Grandpa, Grandpa," but he did not hear him.

Huey got up on his new legs, walked over to Grandpa, and kicked him in the rind.

" What, what are ya doin Huey!"

"Grandpa, it worked. We've got legs. Let's get goin!"

As we end our story (at least all of it we will ever know), we can see two orange pumpkins, one big and one small, their rinds glistening in the morning sun, making their way through the rows, then through the dew ladened grass, finally disappearing into the distant forest.

The Great Escape, Part 2

"What will they do with us? Well, they may cut your innards out, and cook ya. Or they might carve you up into ugly faces."

"But Grandpa, I don't want leave, and I sure don't want to be eviscerated (a mighty big word for such a young punkin)."

"I thought that maybe if I wished hard enough that I might grow some legs and run away. So far nothin. But Baby Huey, maybe, just maybe, if you wish real, real hard, you can grow legs and get outta here."

So, baby Huey closed his one umbilical eye and proceeded to descend into his deepest pumpkin meditation, mentally repeating the mantra,

"Grow legs for me and Grandpa, Grow legs for me and Grandpa, Grow legs for me and Grandpa..."

The Great Escape, Part 1

It is Saturday Centus time once again. Miss Jenny has provided a photo prompt for this week's 100 word, or less, creative writing exercise. The photo is in keeping with the Fall season. In keeping with my routine difficulty in restraining myself to 100 words...forget less...my effort this week will be in 3 parts. The first part written by me, with the subsequent parts written by my alter selves...those other Jeff's living in parallel universes. So, if any of you word counters have a problem with this, you will have to take it up with my alter selves. Problem is, I don't know how to get a hold of them. So, let us begin...with our Pumpkin Photo Prompted exercise.

Our story begins with a big, orange sun rising up above the eastern horizon, its early morning rays reflecting off the dew covered grassy fields. In the distance we see neat rows of large and small orange pumpkins. It is a "picture perfect", serene morning. Yet down amongst the rows of pumpkins all is not well, and we can hear great pumpkin chatter.

"Brutus, why did they move us here? Why did they take us away from our home?"

"Duh, I don't know Huey. Ask Grandpa. He will Know."

"Grandpa, why did they bring us here?"

"Well Baby Huey, they brought us here to make it easy for the school kids to pick us."

"Pick us! What will they do with us?"

Which Way Go the Bus?

I must admit that I have gone way deep into this whole reflection photo business. Urban environments offer up a smorgasbord of reflective opportunity with such a variety of different surfaces and subjects. In this shot, it almost seems like this bus is crossing over into a parallel universe. Would not that be cool if you could hop a bus and take a trip across the veil into a different universe?

Peace and blessings...

This photograph is posted in response to a weekly meme, Weekend Reflections. Thanks to James for bringing us this opportunity.

A Different Kind of Birthday

Frank was told by the receptionist to go to the room, 3rd door down on the right. As he walked down the long hallway he heard talking and laughter coming from the room. He entered through a golden door and found a large, bright and sunny room. A large number of people were seated at a long, cloth covered dining table, richly adorned with the most beautiful flowers. Among the guests, and much to his surprise, were his mom and dad, grandparents, great aunts and uncles, and a host of people he did not recognize. "Frank's here", they cheered. "Good to see you Frank. Sit here at the end", his dad said. At the end of the table, next to his dad, was a very large white cake with numbers of brightly colored, lit candles. As he sat down, the guests started singing, "Happy Birthday To You..." He never dreamed when he blew out the candles on his cake that there would be birthdays in heaven.

This post is done in response to the weekly, prompted writing meme, Saturday Centus. The writing prompt is in bold italics. This week's prompt is in honor of Tom's birthday. Tom is a regular contributor to this meme. Happy Birthday Tom!!

Waterfowl in the Abstract

Yesterday evening my wonderful wife and I were taking photos along the shores of a nearby lake. There were many ducks and geese nearby. The sun had set, and I was working to accommodate for low light, changing settings and so forth. Needless to say with the lighting situation and a lens not conducive to low light, I ended with very few good photographs...in the conventional sense. This one unintended result actually was quite pleasing to me. Painting with a lens in a manner of speaking. I just like the whole thing going on with this picture...muted colors, reflections. I hope you enjoy this mallard couple as much as I do.

Peace and blessings

James sponsors a wonderful weekly photo meme that focuses on reflections. Please check out this blog, Weekend Reflections, for many wonderful reflective photographs.

Photo Contest

This wonderful photograph was taken by my wife Kathy, the HappyMrsC. It is an entry in a local amateur photography contest. It is in neck and neck competition with another photograph for the "People's Choice Award". I am certain she would love to have your vote. You may vote on Facebook by going to 2 Northshore on Facebook...www.facebook.com/2northshore. You must first click on "like" at the top of their page. Then you go to a page showing all the entries and you click on her photo of the hang glider and then you "like" it...and your vote is cast...

Peace and blessings

Don't Cry Over...

Maria was busily cleaning up from the party the night before. As she headed to the kitchen with wine glasses, one fell from the tray, spilling red wine on the carpet. She set the tray on the counter, retrieved a rag, and tried to soak the wine from the carpet. "This is never going to come out", she thought as she scrubbed at the spot on the worn carpet.

It had only been a month since Maria had crossed the border from Mexico, seeking a new life far from the ravages of poverty at home in Mazatenango...could this accident ruin her hopes?

"Mr. Thomas would be home any minute", she thought as she continued scrubbing. Would he fire me, send me back home? He seemed a kind and gentle man, not easily angered.

Maria heard the front door open, then close. It was Mr. Thomas. "Hello Maria, how was your day"? Before she could answer, she began crying. "Senor Thomas, I am so sorry I spilt the wine on your carpet".

Sensing her sincerity and distress, he held her and kissed her forehead. "Don't cry over this, dear Maria". At that moment their lives changed forever.

This little piece of writing is in response to Saturday Centus, a prompted, creative writing meme. The prompt is in bold type. Please take a moment and check out some wonderful writing at Saturday Centus. Thanks to Jenny Matlock and her wonderful 'mentoring'.

Urban Reflections in Sepia

This building, located in downtown Chattanooga, has a remarkable multi-pane glass front. It is S-shaped, with both convex and concave surface. It provides quite unique and interesting reflections of the Marriot Hotel and Convention Center across the street.

Peace and blessings...and a weekend full of reflection.

This photograph is posted as a response to the weekly photo meme, Weekend Reflections.

Color Is All Around Us

Our world is awash in color, and although I could be accused of having too much interest in monochromatic and grey scale photography, I nonetheless am a huge fan of color. My favorite colors are those that would be associated with the American Southwest. Problem is, I live far away from the bounty of earth hues and tones of that beloved area. So I do what I can from my rainbow perch here in little ol Tennessee.

MrsC and I went on one of our regular photo outings the other evening, venturing down to our local waterfront area in downtown, beautiful Chattanooga, adjacent to the mighty Tennessee River. It is a wonderful location where locals and visitors alike congregate on nice evenings to play, take in the peaceful moments, to love...to take pictures. I hope you enjoy these pictures that I took the other day and earlier this year from this riverside haunt that we so love.

A bit of love...and some vibrant color...

A young woman who was there with two, twin boys and her husband.

Kathy remarked that I had taken so many pictures of her...really not that many...must have been the bright red bag ;-)

So many colors in one 'burst'...

Colorful sky as our sun sets...

and the moon rises...

This is our final post for Alphabe-Thursday, Rainbow Summer School. I would like to thank Jenny Matlock, and all the wonderful bloggers associated with this meme...so many new and wonderful friends...puts a bit of 'color' into my world. See ya soon, I hope.

Peace and blessings

Namaste

Superstitions, Good Luck Charms, and Hats

I would think of myself as moderately superstitious...not overly so, yet not devoid of its casual 'charms'. Some 14 years ago I went on a fishing adventure with my son, my dad, brother-in-law, and his son. We traveled to Boca Grande Florida for a week's fishing for mostly Tarpon, a very large and most exciting prey. We had rented a condo adjacent to one of the inlets. One afternoon, early evening I decided to walk along the narrow, sandy beach that ran out to where inlet meets Gulf. I was casting a medium sized jig along the shore, catching a fair number of Snook, a remarkable fish. At one point I glanced down to the sand and noticed an object that did not appear natural. I reached down a picked up a mostly buried ball cap, the one you see in the picture above. Turned out to be a Guy Harvey signature cap with a Snook embroidered on the front. Here I was catching snook and then finding a practically new ball cap with a Snook on it. Since that discovery I have worn this cap above all others, considering it somewhat of a good luck charm.

There have been occasions when I have misplaced it or have left it in a restaurant, but have managed to recover it quickly. Recently this happened again, and try as I might, could not find it anywhere. I resigned myself to the grave possibility that it might be gone...forever. Strange how this possibility affected my mood, my emotion...that a mature 56 yr. old man could attach such emotion to a faded, weathered and worn old cap. MrsC stated the obvious, yet less than comforting fact, that I had other caps to wear.

Well, long story short...I found it! It was underneath a book in a chair in the foyer. Happy days! My somber mood quickly turned around. I was however humbled by what an insignificant item can do. Before I found it I did find some peace and resolve that I could move on, forge ahead through the darkness that had descended upon me.

Flickering, Fading Creativity

This week's prompt concerns 9/11...or at least that is how I read it. I find no creative juices with which to respond to the prompt. All I can do is relate where I was. Second grade class at Lookout Mountain Elementary School. Our kids were in gym class. I was grading papers, when One of our 4th grade teachers came into the room, hurriedly in fact, exclaiming that I needed to come to her class and see something on TV. I did. I was literally frozen in front of her TV, watching the flames from the first tower, when within minutes on live TV a plane veers into the second. Surreal was what I remember. We spent the remainder of the day in shock, trying to teach and trying to keep the kids from knowing...better to let their parents tell them. Very dark...too many unanswered questions...my guess is we will never know what really happened that day, and the many days leading up to that fateful morning...nor the many days that followed. It changed the world...Peace and blessings

My Thoughts: Inviolate

Over the last year plus, I have tried to refrain from using my blog to spout personal opinion, but I feel that if I do not, right this very moment, I might very well explode.

If you have been paying much attention, and believe me I have been paying as little as possible...then you may have come to the same conclusion as I. This country that I call home, and have for 56 years, is becoming a cesspool of intolerance, viciousness, mean-spirited hatred.

It has gone way past unbearable. This environment is unhealthy for our children, our grandchildren, their children, and so forth.

Our current flock of politicians are either scrambling for corporate money, votes, and using fear to conjure both. The way they act, and the expensive educations that started them on their merry way makes me wonder...wonder if they even have two brain cells with which to make a synaptic connection.

Life can be tough enough...why must some want to make it worse?What is so difficult about trying a bit of compassion, understanding, caring, brotherly/sisterly love, that might lead us to forgiveness. These attributes are fundamental to being human, and it is these very attributes that can and will bring us into relationship with each other. We need each other, regardless of our religion, doctrine, belief system. It is pretty much what all belief systems teach us...if we could only believe that it could work. In my opinion, where we have been going with the limited tools of intolerance and fear, have served us poorly.

I have for years thought that the U.S. has been in a huge position to positively influence the world. We are squandering that opportunity.

Below is a piece that I wrote this morning...Enjoy ;-)

I speak, but have not yet spoken...
I hear, but have not yet heard...
I see, but have not yet seen...
Ego falls away
Like leaves from a tree,
Leaving only branches,
To regenerate 'me'...
That I might speak only truth...
That I might hear only silence...
That I might see only beauty

Dark Night of the Soul

It was a dark

and stormy night.

Fit for spiritual torment

My soul ravaged, lost, alone

Like St. John of that Crossroads

"...In secret, when none saw me,

Nor I beheld aught,

Without light or guide,

Save that which burned in my heart"

Transformation desperate, needed

Needing hope...lost

Sense of self...disintegrates

Faith...in flight

Into this dark night...

This writing is posted as a response to Jenny Matlock's prompted, weekly creative writing meme, Saturday Centus.

Urban Reflections in Black and White

This photograph is posted in response to both Weekend Reflections and The Weekend in Black and White (blackandwhiteweekend.blogspot.com).

I've Got the Indigo Blues

Part 1: Indigo...not an easy color to peg...much discussion and dissension as to where the wonderfully named color falls on the color spectrum. Enough, enough, it's giving me the Indigo Blues.

So, I will offer up this lovely flower, a favorite of mine that we have in our yard. It is the non-native Centauria montana (don't tell Christine), also known as the perennial cornflower, mountain bluet, and other various and sundry local names. I find it striking and so unusual, and I suspect that somewhere in its range of color, there lies some Indigo.

From now on, when I get the Indigo Blues, I am going to imagine how grand it would be to watch Miss Indigo Blue (bottom picture) instruct a bevy of burlesque wannabees at Miss Indigo Blue's Academy of Burlesque. Being in Tennessee, I am a pretty fair stretch from her Seattle based school...darn I'm gettin the Indigo Blues again ;-)

Part 2: After my original post I got to thinkin more and more about this elusive color and perhaps an easier way to "nail it down". So, without further correction, I am going with the Indigo Snake as my standard for this mysterious color. It is given to a "purplish black color when seen in bright light". Go check out Google images for the Indigo Snake and you will see a few that show this coloration. The Indigo is found throughout most of our southern states reaching into Texas and Mexico. It is known to be the longest snake in North America, reaching lengths just shy of 10 feet. So, if you happen to come across a really long, dark snake, with a narrow head, don't kill it. It is most likely an Indigo. Just observe its beauty and its Indigoness.

Peace and blessings, and check out all the wonderful post for Alphabe-Thursday's, Rainbow Colors Summer School.

Sculptural Beauty

This life size bronze is found on the grounds of the Hunter Museum of Art. The museum is located in the Bluff View District near downtown Chattanooga, TN.

This photo is posted in response to the weekly sepia photography meme, Sepia Scenes. You can find many wonderful sepia photographs by going to sepiascenes.blogspot.com.

jeff, tennessee

This insect is of the Genus Condylostylus. A large Genus, it is not an easy feat to ID to the species level. They are quite common, and variable in color. I have photographed those exhibiting red, bronze, gold, and green coloration...all in my yard.

Peace and blessings

This has been posted as a response to Macro Monday...please visit