Portals

2016-02-03_crystals

In the Frame

“Do you see the window?”

The Bohemian asks me, without pointing. We are in our living room, looking out the window to the front yard, but I know he doesn’t mean the glass in front of us.

I do know what he’s looking at, because I’ve seen it too.

“Yes. Let’s go down and look through it,” I say.

We take cameras because the flowers are bursting fuchsia, and it’s coming on sunset. The naturally formed circle we’ve been eyeing from afar, looks like a giant brush stroke from an invisible force. It winks with a flourish. Beckons us closer. Asks to be seen.

So often, we scan the yard with scrutinizing eyes, sizing up the next project. The irrigation needs to be extended. The Be-Still bushes need pruning. The garden, it can always use weeding.

But this evening, the Bohemian is in rare form, donning a bathroom. It’s Saturday and the sun is settling down. We step through the lawn and look in new ways. We breathe in fresh layers of leaves. Listen to birds on branches. Peer through that shining ring of flowers, magnifying sky, showcasing clouds.

We’ll try to capture the window, but cannot. The colors too elusive, the lighting, for our eyes only. This is a peek for the moment, not for later.

I enjoy the strata of seeing. My small Cannon window lens, focused upon the Bohemian’s handheld window, which is set upon the circle of flowers framing sky. Multiple filters, these bands through which we behold.

 

2016-02-02_bougainvillea window

 

And then, it’s time to set down the apparatuses. Stop trying to capture. We simply gaze and wander. See and be.

Woodpile Wealth

2016-02-01_wood pile

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