Good morning. It is a beautiful day. I woke tired and groggy. My son has a cold and I was up with him through the night. I could not fall asleep either as the obtuse pain of my mother’s death (she died in December) retracted into the tiny pinching, piercing ache once again. A deep acceptance of her death came over me. I cried. I called. I wept. I wrote.


I woke renewed. Inspired. I opened the curtains and let the sunshine through the lace curtains in my bedroom.




I got dressed and kissed my son and husband good morning. I went to my garden and took photos of the flowering fruits and veggies. Nature is beautiful. I thought about the sadness from the night before and made the connection between joy and sorrow.


Pumpkin flower from garden. Bright orange star, perfect in her morning muse.

Kahlil Gibran said something to the effect of joy is your sorrow unmasked. This is true.

I felt joy as I took photos of my garden and porch drenched in sunlight and shadows.


Poetic porch


Radishes in garden

Life is a beautiful mess.

Hope you have a great day.
PS – This is my first post from my smartphone. I have named her Ms. MENSA. đŸ™‚
PSS – I took all photos with Ms. Mensa.

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