In Inverness we needed to change travellers' cheques and I took a walk to the bank. On the way I passed a garden with this flower in it:
I absolutely love this photo. When I showed it to my daughter she said "dead flower". I guess technically it is, but I never saw it as such - rather, as a flower whose age and imperfections had added to the beauty of its shapes.
Rather like me, I hope. Ageing and imperfect, but still living and learning!
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
4 comments:
There's something beautiful about the end of life. And what a life this flower must have had. You can still see its brilliance in the fading colors.
You definitely have a poet's eye for noticing beauty in world.
Aging for me means experiences. Wilting means renewal. I like the photo becos it reinforces both.
I learn so much from your experiences too. Thanks for being there for us in this blog world.
Very glad michele sent me here today.
Beauty takes many forms, as you've so deftly illustrated here.
Years ago, I took pictures of our Aunt Millie during a visit to her nursing home. I doubt she even knew we were there, but she was her sweet self as we spoke gently to her and told her stories of our lives.
I quietly moved around the room taking pictures of her. The warmth in her eyes and the wrinkles that reflected her journey through life were more beautiful than anything I ever saw in a magazine ad.
I guess it all comes down to how we choose to define beauty. Michele sent me to thank you for keeping such a broad perspective.
I love this flower too - it's the colours - like a faded carpet. You could do a patchwork based on this photo I'm sure (and I'd love to see it when you've finished it.) A poem is probably all wrapped up in that flower too. And all from one random photo ...
Post a Comment