by Bela Johnson | Jul 24, 2019 | Hawaii, inspiration, nature, philosophy, Uncategorized
Hold onto the preciousness of this day, squeeze it until dawn breaks, fanning out like silvery wings of a hawk circling overhead, spreading a watercolor morning across misty skies, eggs cracked into creamy melted butter in a hot silvery pan; Hold fast, wind sweeping...
by Bela Johnson | Jun 11, 2019 | gardening, Hawaii, lifestyle, nature, photography, Uncategorized
Sitting still always an option, gazing at mellow reflections, morning light on old fir flooring burnished by the feet of generations; yet compelled, ever coaxed out of doors and into an emerald wonderland punctuated by floral scents and hues, exuberant birdsong,...
by Bela Johnson | May 29, 2019 | gardening, Hawaii, lifestyle, nature, perspective, photography, Uncategorized
Shower trees quiver blossoms of shell pink or flaxen yellow with ivory struck through, sucking up abundant rainwater, tips a brand new green in these late spring days; shooting ever upward, obscuring, as originally planned, any traces of power lines stretched between...
by Bela Johnson | May 25, 2019 | #writephoto, friendship, gardening, nature, philosophy, Uncategorized
A cat crouches low in the shadows of the rectory, and it has been long since I have been in the company of cats; dogs sprawl lazily outside monolithic stone walls while snakes coil under rocks and birds light gently from branch to branch; The sun rises, sets, rises...
by Bela Johnson | May 16, 2019 | musings, nature, pagan, poetry, spirituality, Uncategorized
The Photo Prompt: Wicker A walk in the forest reveals character, the too-smooth perfect bark of white cedar alongside the pocked husk of a dead relation not yet upended, bustling home to woodpeckers and nuthatches; mossy trunks of ancient fir spirits, rooted then and...
by Bela Johnson | May 14, 2019 | musings, nature, philosophy, Puget Sound, Uncategorized
The wind through the firs sounds like the distant thundering South Pacific from our island home, yet similarities end there, ruddy nose running from unaccustomed chill and fingers reluctant to part from pockets; It has been years since I rooted feet in forest soil,...
