It’s a long journey
a life’s belongings
ready to roll
Photo taken this weekend at the Nevada Museum of Art in Reno with a Samsung Galaxy.
Please take a few minutes to read the post by Sally, at Lens and Pens, who organizes this weekly challenge; there is some wonderful information to be had there.
A long weekend away. I have not been able to download a post from my Nook as I did in Mexico. I think I’ve just found a backdoor in. We will see.
It happened seemingly overnight. Flowers are popping out all over the place to show their gratitude for the watering they got last week. It was also 70 degrees here today.
To my friends back on the East Coast…keep the faith!
Certain trees took a stand, before the rains came, but you, you that refused to sign the petition. Here you are, arms reaching out in surrender. Too late! It’s over, and just look at what you’ve done, tipping over like a drunk in a bar, taking the rail down with you.
I photographed you in your throes, with rain clouds looming that went unnoticed. Your struggle had me in its grip. The eyes of the sky darkened; your visage changed in that moment, and tears from the sky began to fall
I put the camera away and closed the gate behind me
Since these photos were taken a little over a week ago, some rain has come to Northern California. Blades of green grass can be seen in the fields, offering some hope.
The fundamentals of cooking in our kitchen include a lot of garlic. As I placed a bulb of Allium Sativum back into the molcajete (a Mexican mortar and pestle) where I keep it by the stove, I saw another side of its beauty. The papery skin torn in layers around the root cluster begged for a photo, as did the other side
Nothing in this house escapes a phoneography opportunity. Thanks to Lens and Pens by Sally for today’s challenge.
Mercado 23, the market in Cancun frequented by locals (vs. Mercado 28 that is all the tourist rage). We found out about it through reading info about Cancun before getting there; also learned more from the hotel staff who told us about it to differentiate it from where they were sure we wanted to go, Mercado 28…so wrong; I like to get off the tourist trail even though I am one. It’s a much better feel for a locale when you get into a little bit of the foreign everyday.
Being here was like going back in time for me. When I spent my childhood summers in Guadalajara with my Aunt Angeline, who owned a little café, I would go to one of the local markets every morning with her and my cousin to shop for the day’s menu. The variety of everything always fascinated me. Mercado 23 has been around for a while, but it has character. There was one shop selling medicinal herbs, and the sidewalk outside the shop was filled with very aromatic smoke; as I glanced up at jars that lined the shelves in front of the shop and saw belladonna, which is an old-time opiate, and other unknown names, I decided to move on quickly to avoid taking in too much of that smoke.
I’ve included these photos and more in the following gallery; open it up by clicking on any photo.
It was a great morning.
I’ll wrap it up next Sunday with my favorite places and faces in the Riviera Maya.
The storm doors seem to have opened. Northern California is getting the rain that is more usual for this time of year, storms coming in off the Pacific from the Hawaiian Islands; it’s called the Pineapple Express.
The wind blowing through the trees, plants and grasses seems to be singing an ode of joy and gratitude to the Universe.
Every creature seems to rejoice
I would like to introduce you to a blogger I’ve recently found here on WordPress, he’s a rancher in the Sierra Nevada foothills, and writes incredibly beautiful poems on his blog, drycrikjournal. John’s poem today says it all for those of us living in this beautiful area of Northern California.
Shades of a buttery yellow sunset, shot through a window screen. Photo taken in Berkeley looking out towards San Francisco across the Bay.
Take a little trip over to Ailsa’s blog for more on the yellow travel theme for today
Out in a dry field off the freeway they stand, the fence in some spots has fallen. But the trees…they’ve taken a stand. Rain, or no rain. Except for one; but that’s a story for another day.