There’s something about the flower that grows through the rocks,



“There’s something about the flower that grows through the rocks, the pavement; through logs and stone or brick walls…
all roses are beautiful; but the rose that emerges unexpectedly through the asphalt has a beauty of soul.
The flower that reaches through the brokenness of the wall has a beauty of spirit. You stop to look and not only to look but to cherish!
Somewhere along its journey, it decided that it would reach for what was unseen, keep going in the direction of something that wasn’t felt, it decided that it would be. That it would become.
And it did. And there is something irreplaceable about that flower”

~ C. JoyBell C.

~ Image by Guillermo Carballa
Text & image source: ॐ Nature Heals, Nature Reveals ॐ

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1373. Poor, dear, silly Spring, preparing her annual surprise! ~Wallace Stevens

The early mist had vanished
and the fields lay like a
silver shield under the sun.
~Edith Wharton

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As night’s shades were lifted up, off, and away
the new day dawned with a late April gusting
northward wind that ruffled the leaves on trees,
on burgeoning plants, and flowery petals alike.
So too were there clouds that moved overhead
like fleeing chariots trying to make a hasty run
from threatening legions of vile adversarial foes.
Thus the days’s opus began in a kind of exigent
solemnity, and adding to the drama fell a fine mist
but so briefly t’wasn’t enough to assuage dry soil.
By noon the sun’s gilded rays began to break in
through the cloud cover, and then at long last the
bearer of warmth and light laid claim to the entirety
of the spacious skies above, in exclusivity for itself.

-Natalie Scarberry

…the wind blows over it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more. ~Psalm 103:16  ✝

**Clematis image taken by Natalie in her yard

You just don’t know…

Poppy's Place

It’s funny. I expect that many, many people think that having people coming in to do things for you every day must be really nice. Some may even be willing to pay quite a lot of money for the privilege. But, for a disabled person who has to rely on carers for everything it’s not always that good. I hate it.

I don’t want to sound ungrateful but having carers, personal assistants or PAs as I prefer to call them, is not the barrel of laughs you might think it is. Sometimes you just want them to all go away and leave you alone.

I don’t know about other disabled people but I seem to spend three quarters of my life explaining the same thing to the same person over and over again.

You want a cup of coffee? Even though your PA has made you coffee every morning for…

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