As the sun was setting in front of the Imperial Palace in Trier we stumbled upon this group. They were kind enough to explain the game to Stephen, who was kind enough to go ask the questions we were posing to each other.
spring on the farm
Rarely do I have the forethought to bring my camera along when I run the girls back and forth to their friends. This day it was in the car though, providing me incentive to launch another Moira and Mom adventure, whereby I slow down just long enough so as not to attract the neighbors' attention and she hangs out the window just far enough to get the shot without dropping the camera or herself.
That was a very long sentence. <g>
I thought you might enjoy springtime on the farm in Germany as much as I have. These were taken the other day just before the sky dumped buckets on us from great blue clouds.
violets are blue
I don't wear purple. I don't decorate with anything in the purple family. It is one of those incontrovertible 'fun facts' about me. At this moment I am fairly certain there is only one purple thing in my possession – my violets.
African violets are surprisingly hard to come by it seems, for something that was such a staple of my youth. My grandmother cultivated many varieties on every north facing window in her home. She painstakingly started little leaves in tiny juice glasses. I remember watching the progression of those hair-fine roots as they first emerged and then slowly grew long enough to risk transplant.
Many of her little plant babies eventually migrated to my bedroom's bay window in town. In time a white, Victorian styled wheeled plant cart was full to overflowing with those plump fuzzy leaves. It brought great joy to see those blooms. It brought a bit of her as well. Still does.
I have a notoriously brown thumb and feared more than once that I had killed these. It turns out they have a blooming and dormant cycle. When all hope seemed lost they came back again, though they are still a little peaked looking from overwatering. They don't tolerate being waterlogged, nor do they take to watering from above, rather only from the roots below. And they abhor getting their leaves wet. It has the same effect as leaving a damp glass on the coffee table. You can find all the specifics here. I hope to begin again this summer in the new house.
pop
“I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens, but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls off a string.”
– Anne of Avonlea
this abides
"I don't think I got it, Mom. The sun is right behind the nest."
One hallmark of springtime in the German countryside is the return of the storks to their wheel high on a rooftop in a nearby village. Moira, tasked as she was with snapping the mama stork as we drove 'round the corner, doubted the shot was salvageable.
"Let me look at it in editing. I might be able to save it," I told her. When I went through them later, one image just caught my breath. Most of the storks we have seen have been pristine, almost regal. Through the zoom lens, however, this mama appeared a little bedraggled. Tired, but steadfast, serene as she has been every time we have passed lately. She was plucking down from her undersides and dropping it into the nest.
I keep returning to this image. It stands in start contrast to a world that insists we mothers must reach for our own oxygen masks first. Perhaps in our quest for self-preservation and fulfillment we have missed what these creatures just know instinctively: It is in giving that we receive.
"'There were in Delft innumerable storks' nests. When the fire broke out, which was on the 3rd of May, the young storks were fledged, but could not yet fly. Seeing the fire approach, the parent storks attempted to carry their young ones out of danger, but they were too heavy; and after having tried all sorts of desperate efforts, the poor birds were forced to give it up. They might have saved themselves by abandoning the little ones to their fate. But instead, they stayed upon their nests, gathered their little ones about them, covered them with their wings as if to retard as long as possible the fatal moment, and so awaited death in that loving and noble attitude.'
Truly this was a remarkable illustration of devotion, and again demonstrates the fact that there is no greater love in the world than mother love. This holds homes together and comforts in distress. This abides when all others fail.'" – Edmondo De Amicis
Sunlight through Shadows
Friday morning found me a little groggy and road weary. Allen was traveling and I had been glued to my mail and phone for 48 hrs so as not to miss an update. Grandpa, the only father I've known, entered hospice care and died soon after.
There would be no more news on funeral planning for several hours due to the time difference between here and there. I briefly considered crawling back into bed but the sun was beckoning and little people were getting cabin fever. Some days you just know you will be more rested when you wear them out. So we packed up the blanket, packed water bottles and sunscreen, and met our friends at the Seewoog.
Maria is one of those friends I don't see often but, when we do, words spill out easily. The time passed is quickly bridged and there is great comfort found sharing with another soldier's mom.
( I suggested sunscreen…)
(the men in this family take ball sports seriously!)
The boys ran themselves ragged playing ball in the open fields. The ant mound drew them not surprisingly, and plans were made to begin an ant farm. (and just as quickly laid aside ; )) The little girls, too, fell right back into step. With clasped hands they roamed the reed strewn banks with their brothers, bringing us lily fronds and fish eggs, daisies and dandelion. We left filled to the brim. Just what the day called for.
Weekend photography tips: how to shoot in manual
If you have a dslr camera and are shooting in auto this one is for you. Listen to one woman's first steps to moving towards manual settings here. Then pop over here to learn about that 'little line thingie' which is your light meter. An explanation like this one was also the first thing that really clicked (no pun intended lol) for me when trying to get out the gate with manual exposure.
Getting that little line centered won't guarantee you capture the image you envision creatively. You need to really understand aperture and shutter speed for that. But it will help you get a technically correct exposure from which you can begin to experiment. It is that all-important first concept upon which everything else rests. Start with that little line thingie. <g>
more links:
by lace and lamplight
First look at Cambridge
This makes my inaugural England post from our whirlwind house hunting trip. Such a jam packed visit that the only tourist pictures I got were from the car. Since there are a remarkable number of roundabouts in that fine country and since driving on the other side of the road in traffic made things just a smidge confusing at first, I had lots of opportunities to get up my shots as we circled the college area moving ever closer to the exit each round lol.
April was quite a month let me tell you. Catching my breath just a bit this week as we enter round two here in May. Lots of challenges converging simultaneously, the sort which tend to make one's hands wring and feet pace. What to do? What to do?
I listen to my gypsy friend who reminds me - just do the next thing.
I hope you have a friend like that. I hope you too remember to just do the next thing when the water gets choppy. And maybe take a few pictures too. I think it helps <g>
perfect drudgery…. not
"We housewives often in the course of our work come up to bare unwitting prospects and we exclaim, “Oh, it’s perfect drudgery!” But stay, come round this way, view your work from another standpoint. Ah, what a change! Heavens light is upon it; sacred memories arise, glad songs are heard and we trace where high art has been at work. Best of all, our work need not be likened to a ruin, but a place filled with happy human souls. Don’t have one-sided views of your work, view it all round. Have a truly high idea of your work, and you will never commit the great mistake of thinking it drudgery."
By Charlotte Skinner, The Housewife, 1886.
Do visit Brocante Home for the entire essay!
Starry Sky Journal 