The last two days of Archive postings have focused on my challenges with technology and my observations in how our communication platforms are shaping the way we relate with one another.
I’m pleased that my ponderings inspired some feedback from others. Looks like my dad even got a poem out of the discussion (check out Dry Crik Journal here). Thanks to all for sharing your ‘likes’ and thoughts.
There’s nothing like some nature shots to balance out the conversation.
The Bohemian (who, by the way, checks his emails about twice a week on an archaic laptop and often leaves his cell phone at home) brought me flowers. These are special, as they were the chosen variety featured at our wedding this past November.
Related to the globe amaranth, these vibrant beauties are more feather than bubble. Delicate, but hearty. I love the way they catch the light.
The farmer who grew them included some huge nasturtium leaves as accents in the bouquet. Looking at the vein pattern, words arise in my mind. “All roads lead to…”
Hmmm.
To…one?
The center?
Back to nature?
Nice to find solace in beauty. Rest in the art of living things.
Over the weekend, we eat the atemoya. The Bohemian, of course, wants to save the seeds.
We visit Mary at the farmer’s market and marvel at her Romanesco brocoli. Its fractal example fuels my current fascination with patterns in nature.
I’ve got my camera tucked in a pocket on our rainy Saturday. Jeb’s guiding us on a misty walk we’ve never taken before. Passing through abandoned guava groves and young mahogany stands, we come upon a rushing river.
All I see are lines and curves. Creative order everywhere.
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