I hate that the frost from yesterday caused so much damage to all the jessamine and wisteria. But frost has its own beauty.
I’m interested to see what kind of fruit shortages will happen this year.
The weather has been very odd. The feel of late spring has taken the place of most of our winter here. This weekend, the temperatures are dipping back down to what they should have been the whole time. It will be cold enough to really damage all of the beautiful things that have emerged in the past few weeks.
Tonight, at dinner with my parents, a woman behind our table was eating with her family when she suddenly slumped over. Her son held her up while her daughter called an ambulance. She was completely unresponsive the entire time. After what seemed like forever, one of the waiters asked the room if there was a doctor present. A nurse appeared and everyone whisked the woman behind the closed doors of the bar area. The silence that overcame the room was thick, almost humid, as if people were afraid to speak. It was hard to eat after that, even when we saw her conscious again, being wheeled out by several paramedics. How can you just carry on after that like nothing happened?
When the frailty of existence is exposed like that, it gives one pause. Will the flowers survive the weekend? How will that woman’s week (or entire life) change from this one dinner? We go on about our business as if we are invincible, like tomorrow is guaranteed.
It’s not. We are frail.
This girl. ❤
There’s nothing better than getting on the ground, close to the earth, with a lens like my 55. With such a tool, I can let my love of nature shine through to make meaningful art. I will never be able to thank Marc enough for such a gift.