A Squished Pinecone* |
Do you feel sorry for everything that shows trace vulnerability?
Think berry picking. Passing up or tossing the ones that are damaged in some way. Do you think about how a person can relate to not being the perfect one on the branch?
Think berry picking. Passing up or tossing the ones that are damaged in some way. Do you think about how a person can relate to not being the perfect one on the branch?
What's this all about? Well, it is like this. On a slow autumn afternoon, as I lightly recover enough energy to accomplish more than I have been, I look once again to old pictures for a get-a-better-attitude boost (shove actually). There has been a lot of thinking going on here.
I posted a poem born out of this mood of mine on my poetry blog, Coffee Frappes & Seashells, A Pervading. The line that sticks with me is...flitters like a dry leaf, clinging to a dead tree.Those words describe how I feel. The mood is the result of pressing myself to figure out how to turn old habits towards the horizons in life that I face, (largely facing the sunset.)
Take a simple thing like a squished pinecone on the driveway to analyze why I stop to take a photograph. Why blares in my brain. Am I just an eccentric artist? I could be. After all, I am a septuagenarian. That comes with a ten year free to be anomalous me license.
Over thinking can be entertaining.
How are your autumn afternoons going?
*Taken circa 2004