20 Replies to “Repose”

  6. Laura Kate – One of six children, I was raised by a busy mom, who instilled in me a love of fabric. Though I learned to sew and knit at a young age, it was the arrival of my first grandchild that pushed me into action. A long-time knitter, I am now ready to explore all things fiber.
    Laura Kate says:

    It’s rare to find a dead bird intact like this. It is so beautiful.

    Reply

  7. Aw.. that’s one of those moments that go from “Oh, hi there” to “Oh” and then to “Oh, no” and then to acceptance of a gift, gone, leaving earthly beauty behind. Thank you for sharing that moment.

    Reply
  8. thepensmight – I'm a late blooming writer, painter, digital artist and photographer who is strolling along the banks of the world and web stream, throwing out lines (art, essays, satire, poetry) to see what I might catch. I'm cautious, since I believe we are heading toward the cataract, but, perhaps, with others, we'll channel the future into calmer waters.
    thepensmight says:

    I really like this one. It calls to mind a memento mori.

    Reply
  9. Gretchen Del Rio – Crestline, California, USA – I first discovered the magic of water based colors when many years ago I began to paint with procion dyes on silk. I loved the unexpected quality of the process. It was so exciting to never be sure what the colors and water would combine to produce. It seemed as though the medium had its own passion. Painting with watercolors and paper is much the same. I love the color combinations and separations that occur spontaneously as the color floats on the water. You can never totally predict what effect will result. If you try to control the medium too much, your painting will be very tight losing its aliveness. The artist must be bold and decisive or the work will not be clear and fresh. It is really like a dance. It becomes a controlled folly in knowing when to let go and when to take charge of the direction that the painting is taking. The images that I paint reflect my emotions and are expression of my life experience. They are not extensively planned, but rather evolve as the painting progresses. I am always surprised by the end result since it comes into being because of what the medium and emotion has suggested. The paintings are from my heart and I always fall in love with the subject. I believe that we are all connected and, if an image touches you, it is because we all have the same heart even though our paths may be different. Most of all, painting what I paint makes me happy. The paintings are my own path unfolding. They are an opening door for me and contain my own passion for life.
    Gretchen Del Rio says:

    A moment to contemplate divinity

    Reply
  10. clcouch123 – In conversation, I prefer Christopher. In writing, I use C L Couch because it’s a genderless form of my name and, frankly, easier—I have severe writer’s cramp. This is a blog of poetry, spiritual and occasional. The permanent photographs used here—for the banner, for my profile—were taken by Debra Danielson, a photographer and friend. You may enjoy more of her work at debra.danielson.org. Please presume a copyright and credit me when using mine. And for many things, first your presence here, thank you very much.
    clcouch123 says:

    sad and beautiful, yes
    I’m sorry the bird has died
    and totally agree with you
    about the destination

    Reply
  12. Steven Tryon – Irondequoit, NY – I am a photographer, walker, and sometime paddler, a theologically-educated geek living in Rochester, NY. Once upon a time I was an Army helicopter jockey in Alaska. Supports gay/lesbian/trans/whatever folks. I started with film, switched to digital, then went back to classic film cameras.
    Steven Tryon says:

    It is so easy to forget that we are mortal.

    Reply

  13. Sad, but poignot and beautiful, too – I believe my long trusted Grandfather Robin I came to expect a visit from, for many years here, quietly laid down in last season’s red sedum stalks, went to sleep and said, “I am at rest & done with this phase” – – my son found him while clearing last years carbon for mulching and called out, and when he said, “robin” I said, “Wait! Don’t touch! I want to see if…” cuz my older, lame in one crooked leg, many seasons companion hadn’t yet showed up – sigh – not sure him, because even once rolled over, I couldn’t fully tell if the legs tucked under him, and now frozen in place, if one of them was lame or not – but the grey strokes on the lower wings, one portion of backside/leg and the more orange-red dull color of the breast – well – in my heart, I figure, no more Grandfather Robin visits. But my, didn’t he look peaceful and not in pain – the scavengers of my wild landscape from tiny to larger fronts hadn’t even messed with him at all, though other signs around indicated, he was ripe for such activies and had been center of other activities – – I can only confess to feeling better that perhaps they, too, knew he was to be left in peace

    Reply

    1. TamrahJo, thank you so much for sharing your experience with Grandfather Robin. Such a joy to have them in our lives, such a sorry when they go. Nature always teaching us about the seasons and cycles of life and the mysteries of love and connection.

      Reply

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