Nov 28, 2017

Discover What Recharges You

How do you recharge your batteries when you are drained? Definitely a beautiful day spent in nature with my camera is my favorite way for me to get back to my best self. This was a gorgeous Sunday in Tehachapi about 75 degrees outside, probably the warmest it will be here until next spring. It was late afternoon and the light was perfect. I'm using my Olympus Pen F that I have had for about a year and just love it when I don't want to carry my heavy Nikon and big lenses.

Oct 23, 2017

over and over I fall for you

fall flowers


 beautiful weather

 gourds and corn

 leaves changing colors

fall a season of calming change

Sep 7, 2017

tonight we dance under the stars

Last month I got to do something I have been wanting to do for a long time - Dave and I went with our local photo club and photographed the Milky Way. We arrived at dusk and set up our spots and then around 9:00pm it was dark enough to start shooting. f1.8 13 ISO 1600. Next trip star trails!

Aug 9, 2017

the flower

 The Flower - anonymous
    The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
    Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree.
    Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown,
    For the world was intent on dragging me down.
    And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
    A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
    He stood right before me with his head tilted down
    And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”
    In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
    With its petals all worn - not enough rain, or too little light.
    Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
    I faked a smile and then shifted away.
    But instead of retreating he sat by my side
    And placed the flower to his nose and declared with surprise,
    “It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful too.
    That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”
    The weed before me was dying or dead.
    Not vibrant of colors: orange, yellow or red.
    But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
    So I reached for the flower, and replied, “Just what I need.”
    But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
    He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
    It was then that I noticed for the first time
    That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.
    I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
    As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
    “You’re welcome,” he smiled, and then ran off to play,
    Unaware of the impact he’d had on my day.
    I sat there and wondered how he managed to see
    A self-pitying woman beneath an old willow tree.
    How did he know of my self-indulged plight?
    Perhaps from his heart, he’d been blessed with true sight.
    Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
    The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.
    And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
    I vowed to appreciate every second that’s mine.
    And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
    And breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
    And smiled as I watched that young boy, another weed in hand,
    About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.