Sakura at sunset

A coral pink reef against the sky.

It’s raining today…

…and although I’d prefer sunshine on my stay-at-home vacation, my spirits aren’t too damp because of….

Raindrops on butter-yellow hyacinths — now one of my favourite things.

Cycle of life

Last year’s flowers dry, decompose to compost and nurture this spring’s blossoms: Top photo: Hydrangea.
Bottom photo: Primula.

Taken during an early spring afternoon walk in the Quarry Garden at Queen Elizabeth Park.

Here comes the sun — unexpectedly — Monday morning

I expected to wake up to cold rain this morning — especially because it’s the first day of my vacation — but instead was greeted by a clear, blue sky and an orange orb rising in the east. My response: to follow wise advice and take a picture. I moved my indoor source of sunshine (my nontraditional “Easter Lily”) to the garden and took this photo. A convergence of old Sol in the sky meeting this fresh young sunspot on the ground.

I hope you find and share “sunshine” this week, even on dull, cold days. Because of these bloggers who wrote such courageous, beautiful, loving posts last week, I’m going to try to be a brighter light.

Between Good Friday & Easter

A chilly, bright morning in my part of the world. Sharp, clear and quiet. Ideal conditions for contemplating sorrow and joy, fear and courage, death and life — events and emotions that are not always distinct and sequential, but often occur so closely together, they seem to co-exist. And then one feels a bit mixed-up — or maybe it’s just me. This is the {gardener’s} difficulty when the Spring Equinox and the Paschal Triduum occur within the same week.

Despite the photos below — I cannot ignore Spring’s gifts completely today; maybe I’m wrong but for me this would be dishonest and wasteful — I’m not ready for Easter celebration. My mind needs to dwell here, here and here for part of today. A necessary change of focus.

Too closely observed

The title of this blog has been working well for me — perhaps a little too well. You see, not only am I noticing things I would have missed during my preblogging days, but I’m becoming obsessed with capturing sights of truth and beauty with my third eye (aka Canon A510). But unless lighting conditions are perfect, there is no ill wind — or even gentle breeze — to ruffle the petals, and I hold my breath, my macro shots will not be in focus. This evening, for example, I filled my memory card with photos of a Clematis armandii in early bloom stage and was so disappointed when I downloaded the shots to find not one with the desired object in focus sharply defined by perfect light convergence. Oh, I have clear shots of the green trellis, wooden fence, twigs and green leaves but no creamy-white blossoms that aren’t blurry. Sigh. What to post on the eve of the Vernal Equinox?

How about the only in-focus photo I shot, for fun, this evening. Sad to say, although it is in one of my favourite shades of green, it’s not a botanical image. When I saw this object in front of the apartment building I immediately thought it’s trying to blend into its surroundings, like a chameleon. And then my second, more ironic thought: a green SUV, unless electric (do they exist?) is the ultimate oxymoron.

Not pretty, not green, posted here to remind me the most out-of-focus, poorly composed botanical subject is a worthier subject for contemplation (if not public posting).

Cherry blossoms

#1.
Yesterday the rain poured down
tomorrow the wind will blow,
but today the sun shines bright,
on delicate Sakura.

#2.
Pink buds grow rosy,
Sakura nods in the breeze,
Petals fall to earth.

Avaaz.org petition to support the Tibetan People

Hello, all.  After I signed the petition, I received this message from Avaaz.org but rather than forwarding it by email, I am posting it here. Thank you for taking a moment to read it:

Hi,
 
I just signed an urgent petition calling on the Chinese government to respect human rights in Tibet and engage in meaningful dialogue with the Dalai Lama. This is really important, and I thought you might want to take action:

http://www.avaaz.org/en/tibet_end_the_violence/98.php/?CLICK_TF_TRACK 
     
After nearly 50 years of Chinese rule, the Tibetans are sending out a global cry for change. But violence is spreading across Tibet and neighbouring regions, and the Chinese regime is right now considering a choice between increasing brutality or dialogue, that could determine the future of Tibet and China.

We can affect this historic choice. China does care about its international reputation. Its economy is totally dependent on “Made in China” exports that we all buy, and it is keen to make the Olympics in Beijing this summer a celebration of a new China that is a respected world power.

President Hu needs to hear that ‘Brand China’ and the Olympics can succeed only if he makes the right choice. But it will take an avalanche of global people power to get his attention.  Click below to join me and sign a petition to President Hu calling for restraint in Tibet and dialogue with the Dalai Lama — and tell absolutely everyone you can right away. The petition is organized by Avaaz, and they are urgently aiming to reach 1 million signatures to deliver directly to Chinese officials:

http://www.avaaz.org/en/tibet_end_the_violence/98.php/?CLICK_TF_TRACK       
               
Thank you so much for your help!
   

Sunday afternoon walk in the city

Yesterday I had hoped to convince my Westie he needed only a very short dog-walk so I could spend most of the day indoors catching-up on cleaning, laundry and decluttering. Piper, as usual, had his own agenda. First, he took me to Queen Elizabeth Park (honestly, his choice because I always let him follow his nose for the first 30 minutes of our walk) where at the park’s highest point, we discovered dancing water sprites:

On this dull, gray day — when to be honest, I had been feeling a bit melancholy — I suddenly felt a burst of spring sunshine in my heart and had an urge to start dancing myself. Perhaps I was influenced by this jen lemen post? When the fountains were resting, I too, wanted to lie back in the water and let it hold me up.

Refreshed by unexpected beauty I was ready to return home. I really, really wanted to walk back in as straight a line as possible (Do Not Pass Go). Even more, I wanted to avoid crossing paths with too many squirrels that drive Piper into fevered frenzy as he tries to fulfill his destiny. My arm was tired and sore from all the tugging at the end of the leash. But the Westie started pulling West, very hard, and for a change he wasn’t after vermin. “Whatever and wherever“, I acquiesced, not too unwillingly because he’s a bright little fellow and knew I really wanted a Sunday afternoon vacation.

A dozen or two city blocks later, we came across a front garden filled with my favourite Spring perennials that alas, I cannot and will never be able to grow in a container on my sunny balcony. Their heads were bowed downward close to the ground and I decided to take a chance, put my camera underneath their faces, shot blindly and hoped for the best.

Not too bad. Good enough to remember the translucent, rosy-mauve blooms of Helleborus orientalis.

What could have been a lonely, self-absorbed day indoors turned into a true Sacred Sunday when I yielded to what my heart was telling me to do (with a little help from my friend) and made time and space for beauty and gratitude.

Midweek, midday prayer in the church of the urban landscape

Blinded by the beauty and brilliance

On my knees in adoration

Gazing up, filled with awe