1122. That we find a poppy beautiful means that we are less alone and that we are deeply inserted into existence than the course of a single life would lead us believe. ~Edited quote by John Berger

Flowers could be described as burst of colour,
pattern and infinite grace all governed by sacred geometry.
And so too are they perfectly woven into the fabric
of existence to brighten up our world.
~Cherie Roe Dirksen

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Today I witnessed the actual birth of a poppy. I saw the poppy push itself out of the shell, and then I watched the shell fall to the ground. The stem was trembling as it unfolded, and seeing that, I was reminded of times when I too trembled while attempting to do something courageous. I would be very afraid inside, but like the poppy, I would go ahead and do it anyway. It takes courage sometimes to come out of one’s shell and even more courage to actually bloom. Next I saw the flower begin to open, and watching it gradually unwinding itself was an amazing sight to behold. As I looked on, I thought to myself, “I wonder what it feels like to bloom?” Then a few moments later the poppy had completely opened, and there before my eyes was the most vivid, red-orange-colored flower I had ever seen. Because the poppy was so very beautiful and so radiantly alive, the sight of it brought great joy to my heart which I believe was its purpose. ~Edited excerpt from a passage by Veronica Hay

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Take that Poppy seed, for instance: it lies in your palm, the merest atom of matter, hardly visible, a speck, a pin’s point in bulk, but within it is imprisoned a spirit of beauty ineffable, which will break its bonds and emerge from the dark ground and blossom in a splendor so dazzling as to baffle all powers of description. ~Celia Thaxter

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How great is God–beyond our understanding! …stop and consider God’s wonders. The heavens are telling of the glory of God…~excerpts from Job 36:26, Job 37:14, and Psalm 19:1  ✝

1115.Two of my favorite things are sitting on porch, smoking a pipe, and playing my harmonica. ~Edited excerpt from Abraham Lincoln

I return to my front porch to find
the place where the air smells sweeter and
the sun feels warmer than at any other
bend in life’s long road.
~John Sarris

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After the end of a long hot day
At the end of my rope – with nerves all frayed
I sat on the porch…to rest a spell
As the sun slipped…slowly behind the hill.
Calmed…by the lingering…after glow
I watched…the star-speckled night unfold.
Crimson streaks…on a sky of blue
Melted…in a thousand…different hues
That got lost…in the dark…without the light
Leaving…just their shadows…in the darkness.
And in fields…of clover…across the way
The crickets…began…their serenade
As fireflies danced…with sheer delight
Glowing…in love…with the ebony night.
And there…ahead…at the end of the road
Above the bridge…where the river flows
It rose – like magic – before my eyes
An orange moon…so big…it filled the sky.
~Edited poem by Elaine George

You(God) know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. ~Psalm 139:2  ✝

**Images via Pinterest and the internet; collage created by Natalie

1072. Twilight fell: The sky turned to a light, dusky purple littered with tiny silver stars. ~J.K. Rowling

The setting sun had turned the blue sky a brilliant orange,
then soft pink merging to pearl; the plum velvet of night
had come out of the east, spangled with stars.
~Paul Gallico

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I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on,
The windows and the stars illumined, one by one,
The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily,
And the moon rises and turns them silver.
I shall see the springs, the summers,
And the autumns slowly pass;
And when old Winter puts his blank face to the glass,
I shall close all my shutters, pull the curtains tight,
And build me stately palaces by candlelight.
~Charles Baudelaire

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The moon went slowly down in loveliness;
she departed into the depth of the horizon,
and long veil-like shadows crept up the sky
through which the stars appeared.
Soon, however, they too began to pale
before a splendour in the east,
and the advent of the dawn declared itself
in the newborn blue of heaven.
~H. Rider Haggard

And God said, “Let there be lights in the vault of the sky to separate the day from the night, and let them serve as signs to mark sacred times, and days and years…” ~Genesis 1:14  ✝

Images via Pinterest

748. Red is passion-lit, orange is flowerageous, yellow is suntastic, pink is lipsensual, green is lifebursting, blue is skyful, purple is berrydancing, gray is cloudrainy. ~Terri Guillemets

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Beauty is the adjustment of all parts
proportionately so that one cannot add
or subtract or change without
impairing 
the harmony of the whole.
~Leon B. Alberti

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To conquer a piece of earth and make it as beautiful
as one can dream of it being: That is art, too.
A man cannot be separated from the earth.
I come out of the garden every day feeling,
oh, inspired in a way that one needs
in order to convert the daily-ness of the life
into something greater than that little life itself.
~Stanley Kunitz

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Nothing is more the child
of art than a garden.
~Sir Walter Scott

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But who can paint
like Nature?
Can imagination boast,
amid its gay creation,
hues like hers?
~James Thomson

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Nature is painting for us,
day after day,
pictures of infinite beauty.
~James Russell Lowell

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If you ask me what I came
to do in this world,
I, an artist, will answer you:
I am here to live out loud.
~Emile Zola

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My garden is the canvas
upon which nature paints,
and in it I daily toil.
With my camera in hand
at other times,
I let live 
Yahweh’s art
out loud!
~Natalie Scarberry

Yet you, Lord, are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are al the work of your hand. ~Isaiah 64:8   ✝

**I took all these photos of flowers blooming in my yard.

703. Well-apparel’d April on the heel of limping Winter treads. ~William Shakespeare

…Thus in each flower and simple bell,
That in our path untrodden lie,
Are sweet remembrancers who tell
How fast the winged moments fly.
Time will steal on with ceaseless pace,
Yet lose we not the fleeting hours,
Who still their fairy footsteps trace,
As light they dance among the flowers.
~Charlotte Turner Smith

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First there came yellow,
soft and dotted, next to buds
on a pretty rose

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Then appeared a pink
hibiscus with emboldened
stamen and pollen

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Next a huge orange
rose with a touch of pink in
her heart’s center

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At last there was a
wee rose who bore all shades
amid glossy green
~All haikus by written by
Natalie after a trip, camera in hand,
to a local nursery

I will give you hidden treasures, riches stored in secret places, so that you may know that I am the Lord, the God of Israel, who summons you by name. ~Isaiah 45:3   ✝

651. The real voyage of discovery comes not in the seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes. ~Marcel Proust

What sunshine is to flowers,
smiles are to humanity.
These are not trifles, to be sure;
but scattered along life’s pathway,
the good they do is inconceivable.
~Joseph Addison

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The poppies send up their
orange flares; swaying
in the wind, their congregations
are a levitation

of bright dust, of thin
and lacy leaves.
There isn’t a place
in this world that doesn’t

sooner or later drown
in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,
the roughage

shines like a miracle
as it floats above everything
with its yellow hair.
Of course nothing stops the cold,

black, curved blade
from hooking forward—
of course
loss is the great lesson.

But I also say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness,
and that happiness,

when it’s done right,
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive.
~Mary Oliver

You will also declare a thing, and it will be established for you; so light will shine on your ways. ~Job 22:28   ✝

**Photograph of Iceland Poppy taken by Natalie

624. When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it’s your world for a moment. ~Georgia O’Keeffe

I found I could say things with color
and shapes that I couldn’t say any other way –
things I had no words for.
~Georgia O’Keeffe

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What is orange?

Orange is a tiger lily,
A carrot,
A feather from a parrot.

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A flame,
The wildest color
You can name.

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Orange is a happy day
Saying good-bye in a sunset
That shocks the sky.

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Orange is brave
Orange is bold
It’s bittersweet and marigold.

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Orange is zip
Orange is dash
The brightest stripe in a Roman sash.

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Orange is an orange
Also a mango
Orange is the music of a tango.

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Orange is the fur
Of the fiery fox
The brightest crayon in the box.

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And in the fall
When leaves are turning
Orange is the smell of a bonfire burning.
~Mary O’Neill

For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. ~2 Timothy 1:6   ✝

**Images via Pinterest