My neighbor’s house caught fire in the early hours of Monday morning. They lost nearly everything, even their shoes, they ran out in the dark in their stocking feet, grief etched in lines on their faces, weeping, sobbing lines. A day later, standing in my backyard, I see lines on pages flutter across the lines in the fence between their yard and mine. Lines from books they have read and enjoyed. The first page I picked up had lines of French words and English words, from a dictionary. I stand aupre’ (next to) the fence and read between the lines of their grief and sorrow. And on and on they flutter across in the wind…. Lines from a life lived in love, lines from a home life lost forever, except these lines that keep drifting across my fence… Aussi… (Also, Too) they will begin anew and rebuild their nest… And I look over to the far side of my yard and Spring bursts open in new lines beginning ….
My property is full of muscari flowers, naturalized from years ago, perhaps more than 100 years and I love it. I love blue! Blue is prolific in my backyard!
By the end of Winter, much of the natural world of my yard is mangled and on its way to decomposing, giving it an Out of This World effect. https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/out-of-this-world/
Hiding within sight
Just under the skin
Fear pushing underneath
Tear off the mask
A sweet Valentine’s Day treat to myself from a cute little bakery and candy shop…
Weathered could mean under the fog…. though this church steeple is old and weathered as well.