Prickly Pear Cactus backlit by the Arizona sun
Do you see this as a lonely road? Would you welcome a week or a month on this hill, camped in the vastness, opening yourself to the sky and seemingly endless horizon? On the other hand, would you soon long for trees to break the sameness and provide a relief from the inevitable Arizona heat? Would you walk the road to there and back, exploring the world beneath your feet, or would you use it to escape into the city or suburb?
It’s always fun to respond to Jakesprinter’s Sunday Post. Click on this link to see the many creative responses to his challenge to represent the idea of attraction.
We are attracted to many things. Google quotes about attraction and you will find the overwhelming majority refer to that mysterious magnetic relationship between two people. But aren’t we also attracted to our child’s giggle, our grandmother’s biscuits, our best friend’s laugh, our dog’s antics? What about the brilliant sunset or the crash of ocean waves or the piece of rich dark chocolate?
I am, of course, attracted to certain people, but nature captures my attention as well. I am attracted to flowers, especially yellow flowers, and I was rewarded with these beauties which I found today at the Desert Botanical Gardens, which is a Tourist Attraction.
This is the tree in the previous post. While taking pictures of the mountains in the distance, I turned to my left and was struck by the fragile power of the lone tree. I focused with the tree smack in the middle of the image, knowing that I would probably crop it later.
I want you to see the steps I took in post to get the image that I might print.
Take a look at the sky in the image as I shot it. See the spots? My sensor was dirty but I didn’t realize it. (The camera is, at this moment, “in the shop” having its sensor cleaned
“Hope” is the thing with feathers
“Hope” is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—
And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—
I’ve heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.
Yesterday, while taking pictures at the picnic, I learned that hope comes from enjoying life, spending time with other people, giving time, sharing laughs and struggles.
Thank you to jakesprinter for another inspiring challenge. If you haven’t visited his blog, step on over; I think you’ll enjoy it.
Know how the drudgeries and duties of life sometime step to the forefront and keep us from doing what we want to do? That’s happened here and I’ve spent the past few weeks organizing, purging, cleaning, doing some part-time work to earn a little extra money, and taking care of those unpleasant tasks of life.
As a result, I’ve been away from my blog community. I’ve been nominated for several awards recently; I am humbled and honored by every acknowledgement and nomination, but I’ve not had a chance to accept and to pass on the honor. I plan to take care of that very soon. My thanks and gratitude to each of you who have nominated me.
Tomorrow, it’s back to teaching as fall break is over, but I’m thankful for my brief respite in this beautiful piece of Arizona.
This shot below is taken from one of the more common sites for sunset pictures in Sedona. Tomorrow I’ll explain what I learned from my mistakes in getting the sunset shots.