She was the one

for whom lady bugs appeared.  Hasn't changed much.  She's would have no objection if this image where made into a stained glass window.

Don't you think

 the synapses of a rainbow are glorious?   Can you hear ethereal music?   

Unseen

Under the sway of tiny lights, the umbrella disappears.  And you thought the void was the night sky.  

 

Nope

not a starfish on a rock nestled against succulents.  This is a corpse plant, enticing pollinating flies by its rotten scent. Bancroft Gardens is a treasure trove of the unexpected as well life should be.

The concept of a plant is not

 a plant. Why she is thinking this right now is a questionable concept.  

Calligraphy of a name loved brightens every day.

Or it might be just a game of pick-up-sticks while waiting for the pasta water to boil.  
 

Moody

Moving in an out of moods -- many & various.  Cooking might help later but there are clouds in the kitchen.  
 

Hands

 are so much like spoons.  Gathering everything from flour, soup, gestures and, of course, air.  

Remembering abundance

 being head and all the smiles that abundance brings.  Remembering Ann F Biderman (March 8, 1955 - July 2, 2022).  

Masked

as in a party.  Ready to celebrate and yet and yet there's sadness behind the mask.  
 

Landscapes

are everywhere, especially imbedded on my refrigerator in the evenings.  
 

Size sometimes captivates

as in larger than expected or the petite. Staying focused, both get to where they need to go.  In the background, there's always a cup of coffee waiting.