Sunday, February 24, 2013

A walk today (February 24, 2013) and the shadows on the bridge kept changing with the sun. Below are two pictures of the bridge.

Quiz: Where is this bridge.
Hint: It's over the American River

To get these pictures, I had to wait until there were no bike riders, dog walkers, runners or joggers, or lollygaggers like me on the bridge. Spring is here and it's still winter in February. I've seen daffodils in gardens and my peach and nectarine trees are ready to bloom. Give them a couple weeks and the pink blossoms will be looking for the bees. I took a picture of them today and will take another of the them in full bloom in a couple weeks. And at the end of June/beginning of July I'll photograph the fruit. Then I'll post those pictures here.

Then, I'll make a Peach/Blueberry pie and eat it all by myself.

Well, maybe I'll save a piece of pie for you.

I walked along the River where I also photographed the California Buckeye trees (Aesculus californica). This time of year, there are no leaves, just strong looking buds. I will take another picture of the same trees in April or May when they are in bloom. Very beautiful. And then, I'll take a picture of the same trees September or October when the Buckeyes are splitting out of their shells.

I am always surprised when I meet Californians who don't know what a Buckeye tree is. They are all over this part of the country. Being from Ohio, I always notice the Buckeye trees.

The paintings of Northern California artist and downhill skier Nancy Roycroft and the poems of Jerry Grinstead, somewhat of a skier, who tries to keep up with Nancy, are celebrated at Vision's Voice. Here's another of those old poems.

Choir boy

I sang only to sing,
Every chance I could get,
In two different churches;
Two different beliefs. Yet,
Both making the same
Joyful noise unto God, in
All the world.

A choir boy, they’d tease.
And I couldn’t argue that.
So, I took it as a compliment,
And I made the joyful noise,
And I took a different way,
And it helps me still today, in
All the world.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Poetry You got in the way (A Caregiver's respite) Your memories have long since gone away Still, I wait for you to say Through shadows o...