It is the power of our senses that offer such inspiration to the creative within us and my taste buds often rise to treat me with such.
Honeydew, to me, tastes and feels like summer. I’m easily transported on a rainy day to the sunny shores of a lakeside getaway.
No matter the season, no matter the day, our senses have the power to take us away, to a memory we cherish or perhaps to where our imagination comes out to play.
I captured this image at twilight along a local trail as the blooms seemed to be dancing with the last bits of sun.
I captured this image in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains in Fairy Stone State Park. I giggled at first sight of the morning’s mist in its stream along the lake at the irony of the parks name. To me, this looked as if a group of fairies were passing through and left their magic behind.
The park, one of Virginia’s first, was opened in 1936, and received its name from the mysterious “fairy stones” found in the area.
The origin of the stones are that of a Christian and Pagan mythology, believed to be that of fairies tears upon hearing of the crucification of Christ. These staurolite crystals are only found in a few places around the world. Virginia, it seems, has the abundance of them while they can also be found in Georgia, New Mexico, Brazil and Switzerland.
Geologists describe their origin as a result of a shift and change in surrounding mountains over time. The dreamer and romantic in me prefers to believe the myths of the fairies and it seems I might have captured a little proof of them. What do you think?
love is unconditionally true,
as newborn eyes looking back at you
love is quiet, on a rainy day
when holding hands seems to braid colors
into the gray
love is patient, when voice is lost
strength in understanding at every cost
love is a fighter when battles concede
finding equal footing, a tug of war freed
love is clarity when sight is gone
a caress in the dark, curtains drawn
love is loud when tears ignite
a warrior in battle prepared to fight
love is years of day to day
yet living in that first hello
when your lover looks your way
love is simple yet so completely complicated too
as intricate as pieces of a puzzle,
as delicate as the morning dew
love is ageless, knows not of any bounds
worth growing old with
worth walking in the rain to
worth bravely speaking aloud
if love happens to kneel upon your door
greet it gently, sip it slow
for it knows already the way to your core
it need not bound you
no desire to proclaim
you’ll know when it finds you
no matter brief, no matter the refrain
for love is unconditionally true
beyond any scars, eyes that’ll find yours
to see that true you
Listen to me read A Letter from Eros
I captured this image while in one of the bayou’s outside of New Orleans in Louisiana. I love the look (and feel) of Spanish moss and how it seemingly rains throughout the branches of trees. A moment after I captured this image, I found myself beneath this tree, letting the moss trail across my face and couldn’t help but feel as if I was being greeted by its soul. if only we but listen….