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Monthly Archives: April 2009


At 3 years, 9 months, and 10 days, she has this all figured out.


We can never eat all of them.  There are just too many.  About this time of year the ones left clinging to the branches start to fall and congregate together in clusters on the ground; the rabbits and birds and insects blessed with a bounty we couldn’t possibly consume.





















Chihuly Exhibit, Desert Botanical Garden.  This is just a portion of a spectacular blown glass sun rising at the entrance to the garden.  It completely captures the intensity in yellows, reds, and oranges of a morning sunrise here in The Valley of the Sun.  A truly amazing piece of art. I particularly loved the swirling branches of the sun’s rays against the bright blue sky.


Decorated with love by a three year old who isn’t yet hemmed in by perfection.  All she cared about was that she thought it looked gorgeous to her.  And it was.   Despite any imperfections, it was perfect.  Happy Birthday,  Bubbie!


There is just something about butterflies; they’re really difficult to capture, at least for me, in the wild.  But bring them to a Butterfly Pavillion and they become more docile, more tame, more willing.  This was one of a series of shots taken at The Desert Botanical Garden last fall.  They were stunning to shoot in morning light, warming their wings after a (relatively) cool evening.  One of God’s most beautiful creatures.


His long shadow fell across the dust in late afternoon; the day full of running and herding and more work than most humans do in eight hours.  He flopped down in the dirt for a leisurely scratch behind the ear and a long sigh.  Quittin’ time.


Our former home in Michigan was nestled beneath a stand of tall pines.  Every spring, the pines shed their yellow-green dust to perpetuate their species, referred to in the neighborhood as “The Purge.”   This tree outside our house in the desert is no different.  These tiny balls of cottony softness shed their yellow-green pollen each spring in their own hope of maintaining life.  Beautiful to the camera lens, but wreaking havoc on our itchy eyes and runny noses.


This shot is nowhere near perfect, but I love it.  I love the random order, the textures, the tiny bursts of color, and the variations in size and depth of these clustered cacti.  I took a series of shots, but found the overhead shots to have the most visual interest.


I posted a similar picture back in March, but I had a lot of pictures of bees by the time the citrus blossoms had fallen to the ground, exhausted, drained of their pollen.  It was the end of the feeding frenzy and this little guy was working overtime to get the job done.  Our once buzzing trees are silent  again until next winter.  I’ll miss their beautiful hum.


Like finding shapes in cloud formations, I saw this and thought of a pre-historic reptile hunkered down in the scrub, waiting to pounce.  These sandstone formations are part of the Papago Park recreation area.  I hiked out there one morning in relative seclusion.  It felt unlike Earth.  Other worldly, but beautiful in its own way.