I know at least

intuitively 

atmosphere 

and perspective 

are cousins.  

What shall we name this kitty?

 Should you ask, the succulents are named "dear Eleanor" (right) and Hildegard (left).  

Night time stories

have always fascinated me, especially when light is involved.  

 

When a line or two

try to corral the blurry, the outcome is never a given.  Our perhaps it is all perspective, and the blurry is trying to obscure the line.  For sure, perspective is never a singular voice.

 

Occasionally, the pale

 is quite vibrant.  Sometimes the minimalism of black/white is not quite sufficient.  Sometimes....

If the sun where a succulent

in bloom....

The dream speaks

 in an otherworldly voice.  What do you hear?  

Salix discolor

 Pussy willow sprouting Spring.

Magic wand

 organic, of course.

The distinction between

 alone and lonely.

Light's musical score

 

Perhaps because February

is the most petite month of the year, it seems to me to be slightly on tilt.  This, of course, is just one woman's observation.  I could say the same about peas.