Our world changed fast in Lincoln this spring. We went from mild winter weather to summer-like temps overnight and the grass and trees and flowers bloomed really quickly.
I don’t want to take this beauty for granted though. I want to remember that just a few short weeks ago it looked like someone had sucked all the color out of our neighborhood, and every neighborhood. I’d be driving around town looking at houses for sale and feeling absolutely uninspired as I looked at bare trees and shrubs and yellowed grass. Bo-ring. But now, everything is alive and begging to be enjoyed. The sun is warm, less summer-like than before actually, and we can play in the park in short sleeves. We sit on the porch to eat dinner and we bend in the grass to pick weeds from the garden. We see the little blue flowers that spill over walls and sidewalks and admire the way the branches are layered and lovely on the burning bushes out front.
It’s the best free therapy on the planet, this world of green, growing things. And I’m thoroughly enjoying it.
I don’t know who is responsible for planting red, purple and yellow tulip bulbs in this garden, but thank you, thank you, thank you! They brighten up one small corner of my neighborhood in the loveliest of ways.
The Master Artist outdid himself this spring. Or maybe he does it every spring and I’m just particularly grateful in this moment. Whichever the case, I find myself praising God for his beautiful creation frequently. I’m thankful for eyes to see and the artistic inclination to capture the image forever.
As much as I’ve adored Canon over the years, I’m turning Nikon. It’s not hard to love Nikon when I’m shooting with a fabulous new-to-me Nikon D2x. The sharpness and clarity of the images pleases me to no end. It makes shooting springy pics like hostas rising from the soil and mulch that much more enjoyable.
See that guy working in the yard? Yeah, he’s mine. Te amo, Jeremy Tredway!
Today was a fabulous Saturday of sunshine and fresh air and good old-fashioned family togetherness. It felt like everything was crying out with thankfulness that God created them—the brilliant and teeny yellow daffodils, the redbud and plum trees that are beginning to bloom, the grass that’s turning bright green, and of course, us, the humans who get to luxuriate in such grandeur.
A: Plastic tulips, of course!
Jeremy and I took a walk during his lunch break last week on what had to be the warmest winter day in Nebraska ever. It was gorgeous outside. Jeremy spotted some blooms in on a corner lot and we had to investigate what kind of plant was blooming at this time of year. Hah! So now I’m both tickled and perplexed by the notion of a plastic plant gardener.
…when it kind of looks like summer. But I know so many of you love fall when it gets chilly and rainy. At any rate, fall is here to stay, and this little yellow leaf is a sign of things to come.
It’s a dark and rainy morning and my newborn photo shoot is officially on a rain delay. Mumford is blaring over the speakers while I catch up on email, Facebook, online life as it is. The dog rests behind me, ears flattened a bit—I don’t think he appreciates Roll Away Your Stone as much as I do. I’m finally finally finally easing back into a normal existence after having elbow surgery five weeks ago. Being down and out for that long was both depressing and enlightening. Apparently I’m not much of a patient patient. Back to Mumford & Sons. They played in Council Bluffs two days ago and I. wasn’t. there. Can’t tell you how unfair that seemed. I heard that show sold out in minutes. Ah well, good for them.
Jeremy, Liv and I planted some vincas and impatiens and begonias and lobelias the other day. We’ve got more work to do, but we made a good start using some amazing dirt from our compost pile. Livia loves planting. It wasn’t until later that day when she was contentedly watching tv and I was finishing the potting that I realized, Wow, planting by myself is much easier than doing it with her around! Always, a mama needs to slow down to adjust for younger fingers on a task. As silly as it sounds, I think sometimes we expect Liv to act like an adult. But it takes a long time to nurture this little soul–what a job we’ve been given to train up this child.
Enough with my Thursday ramblings. I’m off to conquer a few piles of laundry.
