There are showy flowers

 and there are quiet flowers.  Like people.  Like the time of day with light ascending or receding.  

Stapilia

 

 Otherworldly with flies, this stemless succulent.  

How the beautiful is in the eye

 

of the sun and gladdens the heart.  

In order to pave

The surface needs to be completely upheaved.  Interesting metaphor for living, no?  

 

Padlocking

a window,  Who did this and for what purpose?  Does this prove doors and windows are twin sisters?
 

On the nature of abandonment,

Can this bike, so carefully situated leaning against the wall, be considered, abandoned?  A rusted treasure.  Should have a name.  

One wonders

 doesn't one?

What is being celebrated?

Sometimes just the act of celebrating is the celebration.  Like wildflowers, joy is never singular?  

 

What is being forged? Created?

Or simply, an afternoon cup of tea with spoon and the gift of reflection?  
 

Light

from above & the view from below.  

 

Molten

 and always turning with a touch of azure and pink.

Shadows and light they siren

 Is the same story being told?  Of course, a good story has many scarves.  Some of them, floral.