it all just grabbed me trees sky mountains fence road shed “my eyes were happy”
Outside of Jefferson, Colorado. Beautiful, peaceful, inspiring. Credit for the phrase “my eyes were happy” goes to The Girl Who is Always Hungry (as she’s know in the Glover Gardens blog), after seeing similar sights in Jefferson last autumn.
Which reminds me…we also had the Blizzard on a Train last autumn in Colorado while trying to check out the fall color…one year ago today.
A few weeks ago in Paris, when the day’s work was over and my time was my own, I strolled through the busy streets with camera in hand. Dinner can wait, I thought, as I took in the champagne-tinted light on the buildings during rush hour. The image below inspired the post Something about the Light in Paris.
And now I’d like to share the rest of my little jaunt. A little boy and his grandfather out on their own evening walk stopped to say hello on a quiet residential street.
As I approached it, Place Victor Hugo captured my fancy. Take a stroll with me around the circle that honors the famous French author and politician, and you’ll see why.
The sky was dark and interesting, a perfect backdrop for the roundabout and its fountain.
There were cars and buses and taxis whizzing by atop the charming and picturesque cobblestones.
There were motorcyclists doing dinner deliveries, and others zipping through the traffic.
There were brave bicyclists, everywhere.
Pedestrians were pausing to stare at their cell phones, perhaps waiting to hear where to meet companions for a glass of rosé.
There was a big fruit and vegetable market, and a small one. The vendor at the small one was very friendly and posed for me.
The customers at the larger produce stand were on the phone, perhaps asking what to pick up for dinner.
On the phone
Making a selection
There were people lingering by the Victor Hugo metro entrance, and others rushing to get to platform, passing under the gorgeous art deco archway sign. This metro stop has been open since 1900.
Street crossings happened only on green; traffic lights were well-respected in this busy roundabout.
Dogs were being walked.
Let me at ‘im!
After catching the sun’s last golden rays on the buildings (see the first photo above or Something about the Light in Paris), I finally stopped for a quick dinner of smoked salmon at one of the canopied little bistros.
I have realized that I perceive my surroundings more clearly when I’m out snapping pics. What a wonderful unintended result.
i see more of life
looking through the camera’s lens
framing it for you
Life is good.
For more Glover Gardens posts about the City of Light, click here.
Escaping the Southeast Texas heat for a few days, I’m chillin’ in the mountains at Little House in the Rockies.
Oh, the glory of it!
It was 40°F when I awoke this morning (that’s 4.4°C for my international readers).
Oh, the glory of it!
A little fire in the fireplace was just right for morning coffee and reading. And finding the names of all the Colorado wildflowers I picked yesterday.
Oh, the glory of it!
Fire is mesmerizing – have you noticed? I sat with my coffee, staring into the flames, and dozens of welcome ideas came knocking, like neighbors with fresh-baked cookies. So here’s a haiku for the inspiration that flames can bring:
gazing at the blaze, fiery hues, controlled-burn warmth, flame-thrown ideas
Now to jot all those ideas down before they leave like Thanksgiving guests when it’s time to do the dishes!
But first, the wildflowers. What a beautiful bounty! Here’s a rundown of the bouquet: Bigelow Tansy-Aster, Black-eyed Susan, Shrubby Cinquefoil, Fairy Trumpet, Giant Red Paintbrush, Mountain Parsley, Parry Primrose, Canada Thistle and White Yarrow.
I gathered this clutch of color in about 20 minutes yesterday afternoon, right before a mountain rainstorm came sweeping through. I hunkered down inside our tiny cabin with a book during the storm, listening to the rain pound rhythmically and peacefully on the metal roof.
Oh, the glory of it!
I’ve been busy with the camera, so you’ll see posts about hummingbirds and mountains and chipmunks (oh my!) over the coming days and weeks, even as I settle back into the summer heat at Glover Gardens in Southeast Texas.
I’m out of town, but the Grill-Meister keeps me up to date on Glover Gardens happenings. My day started off right this morning with his “digital postcard” of this gorgeous red hibiscus with blooms as large as dinner plates:
Lots of blooms on Lord Baltimore this morning!
It’s the little things.
Did you know? Lord Baltimore hibiscus are a very hardy hybrid that’s quite easy to grow in hot climates. They get frostbitten in our garden in Southeast Texas each winter, but always return the spring after being cut back close to the ground. These low-maintenance beauties get revved up as it heats up, and are super-showy by July when other bloomers are starting to get a little wilty and tired. Go, Lord Baltimore!
A friend of mine from high school posted an absolutely – heartbreakingly – beautiful photo of our lighthouse.
I say “our lighthouse” because if you grew up there, on the Bolivar Peninsula, it feels like it belongs to you. That’s my latest picture of it, just below. It belongs to me. It’s part of my childhood DNA. You understand, don’t you?
You do understand, I know. You have landmarks from your own hometown that belong to you, too. Will you respond to this post and share them???
A pretty picture.
My high school friend posted this lovely picture of the Bolivar lighthouse yesterday on Facebook in a group, the Bolivar Peninsula.
The sun is coming up on the Lighthouse at Bolivar Pointe, he said.
And 312 of us have “liked” it, so far. “Liked” is such a relative term. I love it. It reminds me of happy times when I was growing up. It reminds me of waiting for the ferry when my Mom was taking my brother and me to Galveston once a week in the summers to get books from the library and “gourmet” groceries that couldn’t be found on the Peninsula (no Dijon mustard in a 30 mile radius!!!).
I asked my friend if I could share the picture, and he was generous. More than generous, he was sweet and harkened back to old (good) times.
Yes, of course. I was just talking about growing up in church with you and your family.
But – he also said his Mom was ill.
Please pray for her, or send good juju, or whatever you do to ask for good things to happen for good people.
Mary is good people.
Oh – the haiku.
bolivar lighthouse, reminiscent of good times. but we can’t go back
It’s a quick weekend trip for the Grill-Meister and me, celebrating our tenth anniversary.
On a short walk yesterday afternoon, I looked up and saw these steeples framed by the traditional NOLA architectural elements of this stately home and a beautiful old oak tree. All of them both have withstood so much for so long.
It felt great to be in the moment, take the picture, have time to think about these iconic symbols, and then walk on.