My favorite place is solitude

The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge is “Favorite Place.” While the photo was taken at the Minnesota Landscape Arboretum, undoubtedly one of my favorite places, it depicts more. Space for introspection, stillness, connection to Mother Earth. Solitude. That’s my favorite place.

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Loneliness expresses the pain of being alone and solitude expresses the glory of being alone.
— Paul Tillich

Peace . . .

If I don’t know the stories, I make them up

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One of the things that attracts me to vintage and antique things is they have stories, and even if I don’t know the stories, I make them up.
–Mary Kay Andrews

There is something clean and new about the lacy icicles, but long after they melt, the abandoned concrete plant will still be standing.

To participate or check out other interpretations of this week’s Weekly Photo Challenge on The Daily Post, click Story.

Peace . . .

Limited by our perspective

Each person does see the world in a different way. There is not a single, unifying, objective truth. We’re all limited by our perspective.
— Siri Hustvedt

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What is the truth? A peculiar out-of-this-world specimen of vegetation, or the soft frond of a house plant? Exercise your perspective and see things in a new way . . .

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Peace . . .

To participate in The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge, click here.

A silhouette says a lot

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“A silhouette says a lot with very little information, but that’s also what the stereotype does.”

— Kara Walker

Kara Elizabeth Walker  is an African-American contemporary painter, silhouettist, print-maker, installation artist, and film-maker who explores race, gender, sexuality, violence, and identity in her work.

Click here to participate in the The Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge.

 

Life is Sweet

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“That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet.”
— Emily Dickinson

Stop waiting to live life until after you’ve lost the weight, found a spouse, bought a home, been hired for the perfect job, purchased the nicest car. Life is fragile. Life is short. Life is sweet. Eat the damn danish and savor every. last. bite.

To participate in the Weekly Photo Challenge from The Daly Post, click here.

Remember When I Found a Home?

You looked at me through the metal linked fence.  I looked back, head cocked to one side.  My ear hurt.

The woman came with the key and the leash.  She gave you instructions.  “Hold the leash around your wrist and through your hand.  This one’s a runner,” she said.

We all walked outside.  Sweet fresh smells!  Let’s go, go, GO!  I peed on the first upright thing.  The ground, in contrast to the cold hard inside, was soft and bumpy.  The grass tickled my nose.  My paws dampened from the dew.  The sun heated my black coat.

The advice the woman gave you was sound.  I pulled hard, wagging my tail all the while.  The kids squealed and called, “Barney!”  The people inside called that word too.  Good things happened when I heard that word.  Food.  Outside.  Touches.

8629699224_82fd2c9990_cSomeone from inside watched.  You sat down on a picnic bench.  You looked at me.  The woman said, “He knows some tricks.”  Then you said words I understood.  “Sit.”  I sat.  “Shake.”  I offered my paw.  It was the right thing to do.  I received more petting, and this time there was something more.  Hugs and something I would later comprehend as love.

I waited patiently while papers shuffled.  The excited children patted my head and back, smiling.  You asked about my ear.  They hadn’t noticed, but you had.  A slobbering one-eyed dog looked approvingly at me from the other side of the counter.  Barking echoed from inside.

Sitting high on the back seat, as if I had always sat there, the wind whistled through the windows.  Someday I would learn how to put my nose out there and snort, but today I sat high and proud and looked out the front.  I was on a new adventure, like so many trips in cars had been.

When we arrived, they told me it was home.  “What is home?” I wondered.  Still on a leash, I was led from room to room.  There were oh-so-good smells.  Things to eat.  Things to chew.  Things I tried to remember for later investigation.  All at once, there was only you.  And me.  And this new place.

I was nervous and curious.  Where was my cold, hard fence?  Where was the rough cement slab?  Let’s go, go, GO!

You led me to a bag, rustled with your hand and pulled something out.  We went together to sit on the soft warm carpet.  You handed me a bone.  All at once I understood.  “This is home.”

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Weekly Writing Challenge: Leave Your Shoes at the Door