I said something on Facebook about the many bouquets of flowers that arrived in the hands of friends for The Last Bash, so today's travel pictures take you from my house to my garden where I captured them all before they fade. The hydrangea with accompanying daisy are from my neighbor's garden. The others range from minimalist in a jar to the lush of red and pink roses, with all the glory of the summer garden in between:
Lorrie, who steals any show.
Michael and Mary and Melissa and Johannes, who make dinner taste twice as good.
Kasandra, of blessed memory. Walking home together in the early early mornings.
Read more about Fair Weather Friends
20 years ago. My first Fair. Waiting for a friend outside the Dragon Gate. I hear a cheery "Hi, Barbara!" from somewhere behind and above me. I whirled around to see a woman I had met only a couple of times before, towering over me, dressed in flowing green, on a pair of stilts. Lorrie and I are good friends today. I haven't seen her on stilts lately - she loves to make costumes and entertain people on The Eight, the pathway that winds through the fairgrounds in the vague shape of a figure 8. Read more about The Wedding Party
A couple of years ago, I flew to Boston, visited shrines right and left from Cape Cod to Burlington, VT. By the end of the journey, I had circled back with one more shrine on my list. The home of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in Cambridge, MA. Read more about Three Trees
When I was a child, I lived in the trees. Or I would have, if my mother hadn't made me come down for supper.
It's easy to take trees for granted. There they are, rising above the houses, making shade, blocking the view, hosting birds and squirrels, making us sneeze. They're part of the scenery, generally relegated to the backdrop, because trees in the foreground would block the action. There's no actual drama in the tree itself. Nobody actually sees trees. Read more about I See Trees