In the Red

Yesterday Saturday sunlight beamed on reds through our kitchen window.  I was entranced by the scarlet hue as light filtered into a bottle of French red wine.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

I’ve also been enamored with the bloom brought in by The Bohemian from our ‘autograph tree’.  Its white petals browned and dropped within a day and then this rosey fan of color emerged.

Jessica Dofflemyer ~ all rights reserved

The tree’s scientific name is Clusia rosea and I’ve since learned that the flower has no male reproductive parts.  Apparently, in some species the ring around the center has sacs containing pollen.  Not sure if this is the case with this variety, but this photo captures some kind of sticky nectar, mid-fall.

Happy Spring!

It’s All Dots

Physicist, Nassim Haramein, says he had an illuminating moment as a child when he realized that all of existence was made up of dots. From the sub-atomic particles of the cells that make up our bodies, to the pinpoints of stars that splay throughout space. In simplest terms: it’s all dots.courtesy of www.humandalas.com

My little family, comprised of myself, Jeb and the Bohemian, well, I guess we’re all dots too. Orbiting each other in close proximity for days, the rainy weather has us inside, up close, and personal.

This morning those two boys are sleeping. And I’m here, the lone woman, with my coffee, a computer screen and hints of Monday morning traffic mingling with birdsong. The trees are swaying. The light is just coming on.

I’m wondering what words are here to share. As I search the inner recesses of my being, tap the cells, what I get are dots.

When you’re only an inch from the screen, all you see is pixelation. A blur of spots, singular and random. Zoom out to take some space, and slowly the chaos reveals an organization only visible through fresh perspective.

A stormy weather weekend has had me on macro lens. It’s beautiful to stop and look in close. Yet sometimes microscopic vision can’t see the forest for the trees.

It’s a new week, and hopefully, some clearing skies. Time to take in an overview.

I’m zooming out. Taking notes on what I find.

To Be An Egg

On this first morning in March, I feel like an egg.

All of spring’s potential gathered into one potent, delicate container.

I am incubating. Not yet to the hatching stage (and that will certainly take some pecking), I’m in some molecular metamorphosis.

It’s womby, warm and dark in here. Safe and unfinished.

Not yet completely cooked, I simmer slowly while a whole new world is promised.

I am a trajectory evolving, spiraling and spilling over the sidelines of linear time.

Until that perfected moment, when the mystery of life culminates. Collides with time and space.

Or something like that…

photo by Jeb ~ all rights reserved