She's got the heart of a ballerina…

round and round and round she goes…


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Horses on the Loch…

Tomorrow we head to the highlands in Scotland. It’s a beautiful desolate part of the country and I’m really looking forward to taking photographs along the way and while we’re there. Although the vastness of the highlands never seems to translate to a photograph, I’ll attempt to capture what I can. One of my friends suggested desolation often works well in black and white, so perhaps I’ll try that. I remember the first trip I took into the Scottish Highlands, it was 16 years ago, in June, and the empty mountains, devoid of forests, were striking. Since I’m off to the highlands beginning tomorrow I’ll be off the grid without an internet connection. Will be back on Tuesday with a lot of photographs!

Here are two photos taken on the banks of Loch Lomond last week:


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Boturich Gardens and Woods

I really should be posting one photo a day, but the purpose of this blog is to motivate me to take photos, so today, here’s a collection. I spent most of the day with my camera; wondering the woods and gardens at Boturich which overlooks Loch Lomond in Scotland. It was beautiful, warm, and sunny, with temps in the 80’s which is actually a rarity for this side of the country.


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The Draw Bridge

There’s a draw bridge at the edge of our land, it covers the moat filled with wild beasts and dangerous fish, their teeth so sharp anyone walking near the water cowers in fear. In the spring, the moat overflows onto the green mossy grass that covers the ground near out castle, and the largest most perilous of the wild beasts crosses the bridge. It is during this time the troll, who lives beneath the bridge, sharpens his claws and tricks the beasts into entering his lair. The troll, though smaller than most, overpowers the beasts and sends them into the depths of the murky water, forcing each beast to hold it’s breath until it promises never to cross the bridge again. Because of this we love the troll, and all of those who believe they are trolls, for we know better.


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Tiny Blue Flowers…

At this time of year, these tiny flowers fill the perennial garden in my front yard; Forget Me Nots, they seem to be called. I have two vases of these flowers poised on my kitchen counter because yesterday was Mother’s Day. On days were small gifts are given, like Valentine’s Day or my children’s birthday, I wrap presents, string balloons, sign special cards, and leave then on the kitchen table as morning surprises. Yesterday, I awoke to home-made gifts, home-made cards, and two vases of these tiny flowers at my place at the table. My children had left me the surprise. Although the gifts alone are treasures, what truly touched my heart was how my children embraced the tradition I began when they were small. Gifts mean little in the grand scope of the future, it’s the memories and rituals which have the strongest effect; it’s tradition that I’ve passed onto my children. Forget me not.


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Beauty Among the Green

As I walked through the woods near my house looking for interesting items to photograph, all I could think was “it’s all green, boringly so,” and that was my focus until I began looking, closer, deeper into the green and finding new life. Today, in the USA, it’s Mother’s Day, the perfect time to celebrate mothers is spring, since it’s through them we’re given life. We are sustained by our mothers, regardless of the childhoods we had, the memories that remain, or the people our mother’s have become. So, on this day, I wish a Happy Mother’s Day to all the nurturing women who take care of kids, pets, gardens, the world.


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Asbury Park 3/30/12

When I visited Asbury Park in March, one of the most interesting things about the visit was how desolate the boardwalk was on a chilly, wind swept Friday afternoon. The last time I was in Asbury Park was Labor Day Weekend in 1985, when there were still rides on the boardwalk. I have a photo of myself and my best friend standing in front of the Olympic Bob as proof. That ride is long gone and only shells of buildings remain, and although Asbury Park is improving, I’m glad those shells still exist. They remind me that the past is indeed the past, and will never be relived. People, places, and things die and we move on, our life becoming something it would never have been if those things remained.

I often look back at the picture of myself, and that friend, in front of the Olympic Bob, and miss that smile, while knowing deep within my soul, that if the smile was still present I wouldn’t be who I am today. The shells of buildings in Asbury Park are a reminder to live in the present, rather than wishing for the future, because the present is all we truly have.