Anticipation

The minimal allows delivers the sound.  

 

A fork and her dream

 Oh, you didn't realize forks are feminine.  As feminine as any spoon, I might add.  Now you know something new on this holiday weekend.  

One of the un-cataloged treasures

of our local, municipal library.  Walnut Creek rose garden.  Petite and eye-abundantly powerful.  I'd say like a good read, like a yummy meal.  Like the cat seeing the common as extraordinary and worthy of his inquiry.  
 

Again and also

Measuring cups are more accurate if they are red.  There's a case study ongoing on red measuring cups.  Stay tuned.  Meanwhile whip up some eggs with that adorable petite red whisk.  Everyone knows the kitchen is akin to an artist's studio.  

 

Snail in the clouds

 Well, guess you had to be there.   Backlit by sun, a given.  

A few of my favorite things

Some of my best friends, too.   
 

Fill in the color

What is reality other than perception or the stories we make up, share.  And who's to say that African violets don't dream of snow?
 

Soon it will be dragonfly season

darts of color every which way.  Isn't the phrase "every which way" captivating?
 

Memory is a screen

a shade.  A way to slowly bring memory into focus.  What was the first flower at your grandmother's that said to you, "You will always love flowers."  

 

Waiting for a name

can be like waiting for a train to arrive.  It usually does although sometimes a tad later than anticipated.  Acts of waiting and naming interest me.  What interests you?   I can't wait to see what narrative you create for the occasion.  Or did I mean read?  

Through a slat in the fence

from the innards to back outside.  The personality of a dwelling without people.  Without connections.  
 

The irony of rugged beauty

Perhaps, because the abandoned is never permanent?  Perhaps, because the abandoned holds on to the shared stories?