September 22, 2016. This is prime blooming time for Queen’s Wreath aka Coral Vine – affectionately and simply pink vine in my family. I’ve spent many minutes stopped in my tracks admiring and photographing the pink vine these past few weeks. They are a great catalyst to my intentional tendency to slow down and notice what Nature has on display. Our cat Ziggy got into one photo – made me laugh – his intentions at odds with mine. 
September 12, 2016. What are the odds a native redbud tree would follow its most prolific blooming spree three months later with sudden death? The blooms had been replaced with lush green leaves when we left on summer travels. Six weeks later, return was saddened by the lifeless brown of those leaves and the crisp snap of limbs tested. Research suggested possibilities, but the suddenness really confuses!
Saturday we got out the chainsaw and did what had to be done. Depressing. One bit of beauty remained – rings in the sliced trunk. Out came the camera and my gears began turning on a collage to commemorate the tree. Shots of the rings, of the stump, of St. Francis standing alone (no more posing beneath the redbud).
September 9, 2016. The crinum patch next to the driveway has been a source of wonder the past few weeks – profuse with blooms and small living creatures that demand my attention when I would otherwise hop in or out of the car and continue with ordinary plans. I’m grateful for the distractions! I’m tuning in to the synchronicity of these appearances with various inner puzzles also giving me pause.
Again, the camera at hand was the iPhone, so the image is less spectacular than the butterfly posing. Oh, for a strong back willing to stay saddled at all hours with full camera bag!
September 2, 2016. Looking at a photo taken yesterday, feeling a bit like the feather landed in an alien terrain. Seems our world becomes daily more regimented, restrictive, brittle. Perhaps what’s needed is a softening of perspectives? Perhaps a poem?
stepsandpauses 