Another view of the scissor arches of Wells Cathedral:
Yesterday evening, leaves were in tight little bumps of bronze-green at the tips of tree branches.
Today they are unfurled, returning shade to the world.
My last day at the beach I drove to Calabash, NC to eat an oyster roast at Ella’s. If you are vegan or vegetarian you may want to stop reading now. Many mollusks died for me on Friday.
My “smart phone” is only a C student. With only a 3.2 megapixel camera, photos lack the high-resolution and clarity of those taken with newer models. But it is what I have, so it’s what I used to document this morning’s walk in my neighborhood.
This was the first sunny weekend since mid-January. The sky was brilliantly blue, the sun was bright, and the maples in my front yard responded with their first buds.
Despite the snow and frigid temps of three weekends ago, camellia bus survived unscathed, without their edges being burnt brown by frost.
I live in one of the first suburbs developed in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s. My rural curbside mailbox indicates that my neighborhood was well outside the city limits when it was built on what was forest and farmland. There are still a few old growth trees standing sentinel and providing havens for barred owls and red-shouldered hawks that also call my neighborhood home.
The city grew up around the neighborhood, but there are still aspects that make me feel that I am living in the forest. Fifty years of uninterrupted growth makes even the landscape trees that were planted when the houses were new, create a canopy of branches.
My neighborhood is crisscrossed by creeks, which the neighborhood deer herd uses as super-highways to my vegetable garden. I’ve seen as many as thirteen deer come up from this creek bed and cross the road in front of me.
My neighborhood is characterized by what are now, in the age of McMansions, modest brick ranches and split-level houses. But there is always someone who has to be just a bit pretentious.
The neighborhood weathered the financial crisis fairly well. Now that housing prices are beginning to rise again, I see a lot more for sale signs on my walks.
I hope you enjoyed a Sunday morning walk in my neighborhood.
My thanks to Cheryl Andrews for the inspiration for this week’s photo challenge.
This handmade cherry and walnut Windsor chair is my harp bench. The chair was designed for a cellist but works perfectly for playing the harp. It was custom made to fit my leg and back lengths by “Michael the Chairmaker” in eastern North Carolina.
Sitting on this chair, with my harp pulled back on my shoulder, is where I feel the most at home.
As I was walking in New York City on a sultry evening last July 4th, I came upon a church surrounded by a wrought iron fence covered in gold, blue and green ribbons.
The fence surrounds Marble Collegiate Church. A sign in front of the church states that on March 19, 2006, the third anniversary of the start of the war in Iraq, the congregation and friends of the church began hanging these ribbons on the fence.
The gold ribbons represent prayers for the thousands of U.S. service people killed in Iraq and Afghanistan, and prayers for their families and loved ones. Each gold ribbon bears the name of a soldier. Every Sunday as part of the worship service, the congregation prays by name for each service person lost that week, and then adds their ribbon to the fence.
The blue ribbons represent prayers for the tens of thousands of Iraqis and Afghanis who have lost their lives, for their families and friends, and for all who have been wounded.
The green ribbons represent prayers for peace.
When I read the topic for this week’s photo challenge, I thought of these photos. I thought of the members of this church who every week bear witness to the sacrifice of human lives, and speak the names of those who are lost. And I thought of the invitation their ribbons and their sign offers to passersby:
“We continue to pray daily. We pray for the wounded. We pray for the day that war is no longer an option.
Will you pray with us?”