Sharon's Souvenirs

Monday, May 25, 2020

Lake Harriet Rose Gardens: Spring 2020

"In springtime, love is carried on the breeze. Watch out for flying passion and kisses whizzing by your head." Emma Racine Defleur

A quote for simpler times! What if Spring mutated the Coronavirus into a love contagion? Sigh.That concept sounds like a Lifetime movie. But then again, real life is often stranger than fiction.

Life blooms anew from ashes and snow. At Lake Harriet, the smell of lilacs drifted through the air like flu droplets; stamens poked through glorious petals like Corona crowns; color spread around the park like toilet paper riots at target.

I couldn't resist pointing my cell phone around the park last week. Follow my lens...

Baby Robins. How many heads do you see?

Vacancy.

"Spring won't let me stay in this house any longer! I must get out and breathe the air deeply again." Gustav Mahler

Have a meaningful Memorial Day.

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Monday, May 18, 2020

Crooked Tree Village: Part 1

"If one cannot catch a bird of paradise, better take a wet hen." Nikita Khrushchev

We went on a birding safari in Crooked Tree Village during our time in Belize. The highlights were meandering, mangrove trails; a cornucopia of birds on every branch of crooked tree; peaceful waters with weathered boats abandoned on shore. I could have spent several days capturing the town's natural charm.

Follow our feet...

The Eleven Commandments: 11.) Travel the world.

"Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings." Salvador Dali

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Monday, May 11, 2020

Time Capsule: The Grainery

“Farming looks mighty easy when your plow is a pencil, and you’re a thousand miles from the corn field.” — President Dwight D. Eisenhower

The cruelness of age is written, etched on every board. Abandoned, unkempt, ignored. Someone lived here. At one time, a family moved around the property, utilizing the weathered enclosure for varied and mysterious purposes. Now, only ghosts linger, longing for plow and hearth.

The Grainery was the best place to unearth kittens, (eyelids closed, razor claws, newly formed) mewling behind an old Hoosier cabinet. The structure stored everything but grain: old signs and metal beds, box springs and crumbling boards, vintage dressers and unwanted junk, peeling end tables and old doors. Mailboxes. I grew up here.

Follow my lens...

“No race can prosper until it learns there is as much dignity in tilling a field as in writing a poem.” — Booker T. Washington

And speaking of poems, be sure to pop over to read my limericks, loosely inspired by the Coronavirus. Click here to discover what happened to the T.P. at my house. Or visit my Creative Writing Blog...

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