Tag Archives: Photograph

221. Breath of heaven, lighten my darkness, pour over me your holiness. for you are holy. ~Amy Grant

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Loving God, help us remember the birth of Jesus,
that we may share in the song of the angels,
the gladness of the shepherds,
and worship of the wise men.

Close the door of hate
and open the door of love all over the world.
Let kindness come with every gift and good desires with every greeting.
Deliver us from evil by the blessing which Christ brings,
and teach us to be merry with clear hearts.

May the Christmas morning make us happy to be thy children,
and Christmas evening bring us to our beds with grateful thoughts,
forgiving and forgiven, for Jesus’ sake.  Amen.

~Robert Louis Stevenson, Scottish novelist and poet

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He has no car, no address, no phone number.  He has no money in his pocket; he doesn’t know from where his next meal will come; and more than likely he knows not where he’ll lay his head to sleep tonight or any other night for that matter.

I know not his name nor where he’s from nor where he is now.  Neither do I have any idea what trials lead this man in the photo to the harsh realities of the streets where he currently exists, but I do know in whose image he is made and to whom he belongs.  And I know that if there is to be any kind of joy in his world or peace in our silent nights, it will happen only with help from those of us who are part of Christ’s body.

In the Father’s eyes this man’s worth is no less than that of any other man, and the story that’s in his eyes is deserving of compassionate ears.  So I pause tonight to pray for this man and those like him.  I pray that all of them find food and shelter as well as a good measure of comfort and peace.  And for my family and you who are reading this, I pray that you all have a most blessed Christmas and a very happy New Year.  “O, come let us adore Him” for He came to save us all.

Grant me the grace of inner sight this day
that I may see you as the Self within all selves.
Grant me the grace of love this day
that amidst the pain and disfigurement of life
I may find the treasure that is unlocked by love,
that amidst the pain and disfigurement of my own life
I may know the richness that lies buried in the human soul.
~J. Philip Newell

How priceless is your unfailing love!  Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings.  ~Psalm 36:7   ✝

*The photograph of this homeless man was sent out in an enews bulletin from a local church.

218. Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement. ~Christopher Fry

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A man should have a little music,
read a little poetry, and see a fine picture
every day of his life,
in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense
of the beautiful implanted in the human soul.
~Johann Wolfgang Goethe

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This saffron crocus had been buried under 4 to 5 inches of ice for nearly a week, and yet life had continued to stir in it.  But it’s not just the “fine picture” of the flower that kept an implanted sense of beauty from being obliterated in my soul like Goethe suggests; it’s the fact that the life of the flower was sparked in an icy tomb.  But then God is good at that.  The poetry of amazement never fails to stir something profoundly deep in my soul which in turn lifts me up and out of my moments of self-pity.

Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness covered the surface of the watery depths, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the surface of the waters. Then God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.  ~Genesis 1:2-3  ✝

170. Ones sees clearly only with the heart. Anything essential is invisible to the eyes. ~From THE LITTLE PRINCE by Antoine de Saint Exupéry

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Every man knows well enough
that he is a unique being, only once on this earth;
and by no extraordinary chance will such
a marvelously picturesque piece of diversity in unity,
ever be put together again a second time.
~Friedrich Nietzsche

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Like the child in the photograph holds her ball, God holds us in the palm of His mighty hands.  And since His Word tells us we are made in His image, that speaks to me of the vast and diverse abilities of our Maker.  It tells me He is bigger and more powerful than I could ever imagine.  It tells me there is a distinct reason for the uniqueness of every created entity.  And because we are made in the image of a loving and good God, it tells me I am meant to be in relationships that deepen my reverence and affection for others and my Creator.  It tells me that what my eyes see should be filtered first through my heart of hearts and not through bias or preconceived notions.  It tells me that what I am matters only in the light of what I do for everyone and everything that crosses my path, be they flowers, or creatures, or people.  If not so, then why do things and people I cherish remain tied to my heart in some way even when they are not in sight, and why is it that what’s tied to my heart is far more than just the sight of them.

When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers, the moon and the stars which You have set in place, what is mankind that You are mindful of them, human beings that You care for them?  ~Psalm 8:3-4  ✝

144. In the right light, at the right time, everything is extraordinary. ~Aaron Rose

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For me, a landscape does not exist in its own right,
since its appearance changes at every moment;
but the surrounding atmosphere brings it to life – the
light and the air which vary continually.
For me, it is only the surrounding atmosphere
which gives subjects their true value.
~Claude Monet

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Living in a garden day after day, being a participant in all its events, witnessing the changes from season to season, and watching the way differing light falls on the landscape make gardening a thrilling experience.  The fact that colors in the garden change off and on during the course of a day fascinates me.  In morning light the hues are vivid and bright, but as daylight mellows into twilight, they melt into quieter, more subdued tones.  Light even affects the fragrance of things for it is only in the cooler moments of early morn and twilight that the strongest aromas are dispelled from herbs and flowers.  But then things are not just affected by changes in lighting.  Sometimes colors change as flowers and leaves age, when temperatures rise or fall, when changes occur in the content of the soil, or when rainfall is lacking or in abundance.  That’s why without looking at a calendar, I can tell that the rose bud in the photo is one born of recent rainfall and the passing of the autumnal equinox.  The constancy of this inconstancy defines the soul of a garden, and, like all else in nature, speaks to me of rhythmical and purposeful ordination.

Awake, north wind, and come, south wind!  Blow on my garden that its presence may spread everywhere.  Let my beloved come into his garden and taste its choice fruits.  ~Song of Songs 4:16   ✝

143. The sky is the daily bread of the eyes.  ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

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The earth has received the embrace of the sun
and we shall see the result of that love.
~Hunkesni (Sitting Bull, Lakota Sioux holy man)

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The flowers in these photos are the result of another year’s embrace of the sun.  It will be the remembrance of them and the haunting song of their colors, separately and collectively, that will lift my spirits when in the months to come I traverse winter’s “vale of grief.”  If my memory of the colors should grow dim, I’ll have but to look heavenward and watch for them in the rising and the setting of the sun on days when a window in the gloom has been opened.  In those moments when they streak the eastern or western horizon in a blaze of glory I’ll remember that as the earth tilts back toward the sun, the sun’s embrace will bring the flowers, their lovely colors, and their songs back.  When they return and the air is filled with the music of many melodies, my prayer for all of us will be. . .

 That the morning sun stirs us with gladness from our beds,
That the winds of March move us happily along the new year’s road,
That the rains of April renew our strength,
That the flowers and colors of May captivate our sight,
That the summer inflame our zeal,
That autumn’s colors stimulate our dreams,
That the silver moon make us wiser yet,
That the Lord keep us young at heart so that
we are full of life, laughter, song, and gratitude
for the holiness and goodness in all that the sun and His love embraces.
~Edited and adapted from a blessing by Fr. Andrew Greeley

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.  Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they display knowledge.  There is no speech or language where their voice is not heard. Their voice goes out into all the earth, their words to the ends of the world.  In the heavens He has pitched a tent for the sun, which is like a bridegroom coming forth from his pavilion, like a champion rejoicing to run his course.  ~Psalm 19:1-5   ✝

142. Red is the ultimate cure for sadness. ~Bill Blass

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May you be blessed with
warmth in your home,
peace in your soul
and joy in your life.
~Irish blessing

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A swamp mallow is she in the photograph, and like her name she is one of the stars of our hot Texas summers.  Her scientific name is Hibiscus coccineus, but here in the Lone Star state she is commonly called the Texas Star Swamp Hibiscus. The Star can grow as tall as 7 feet and puts on stunning four inch crimson blossoms.  Another perk is that she attracts hummingbirds, butterflies, and other avian visitors.  However, according to some she can be as big a challenge as the state she’s named after.  In my garden, however, I’ve found her surprisingly easy to manage, and I love that her season runs from June to October and provides lush summer and fall color.

Your ways, God, are Holy.  ~Psalm  77:13  ✝

129. To be surprised, to wonder, is to begin to understand. ~José Ortega y Gasset

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But the sower going forth
to sow seeds sets foot in time to come,
the seeds, falling on his own place.
He has prepared a way for his life
to come to him, if it will.
~Wendell Berry

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Like master gardener and writer, June Santon, “When I see that first, minuscule, curled, pale green wisp of a sprout poking up between a couple of grains of vermiculite, I hear God speaking.”  But then again, it’s really more than just hearing Him speak.  It is connecting with Him in a way unlike anything else because when sowing a seed, like Him, it is creating life.  After all we are made in the image of our Creator God, and so we too have the ability to create.  My particular palette is made up of photographs and words and seeds and plants whereas someone else’s may be notes of music, globs of paint, utensils in a kitchen, pieces of metal, blocks of wood.  The possibilities go on and on because we are not only capable of creating with objects but also with the very essence of who and what we are, as with teachers and ministers and parents.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  ~Psalm 139:13-15  ✝

19. Let us love winter, for it is the spring of genius. ~Pietro Aretino

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We need a renaissance of wonder.
We need to renew, in our hearts and in our souls,
the deathless dream, the eternal poetry, the perennial sense
that life is miracle and magic.
~E. Merrill Root

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Since it is year’s end, we have entered the season of somber gardens, short days, low temperatures, and more-gray-than-blue skies.  The reckless abandon of the growing seasons has yielded to deepening winter’s, unadventurous restraint.  But, while looking out a window brings into view only the barrenness of winter, an actual venture out into its domain can expose wondrous sights like the seed pod in the photograph.  What a treat to see wondrous silken filaments that look like angel hair releasing seeds that are proof of a continuously running thread in Creation’s tapestry.  Such finds are tangible fragments of God’s imagination buried deep in the mystery of nature, and the aura of holiness that surrounds them often leaves onlookers amazed and awestruck.  These miraculous strands are the same kind of threads that govern the ceaseless ebbing and flowing of oceanic waves, the waxing and waning of the moon, the rising and setting of the sun, the birth and death of life forms, and the endless repetition of the seasons.

The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.
It is the source of all true art and all science.
He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder
and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead: his eyes are closed.
~Albert Einstein

Rediscovering awe helps us appreciate the vast wonders of what the Creator’s mind imagined, what His words spoke, and what His hands created.  It bring us closer to God and restores our childlike joy and zeal for life.  The unfathomable mysteries of life are sacred benedictions; their blessings encourage us to stay in the Lord’s keeping and continue searching for His intent for our lives.

Who among the gods is like you, LORD?  Who is like you—majestic in holiness, awesome in glory, working wonders?  ~Exodus 15:11   ✝

**”if an object or expression can bring about, within us, a sense of serene melancholy and a spiritual longing, then that object could be said to be wabi-sabi.” “Wabi-sabi nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect.”  The photo of the seed pod is a excellent example of Wabi Sabi.

16. The trees reflected in the river– they are unconscious of a spiritual world so near to them. So are we. ~Nathaniel Hawthorne

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A Ming vase can be well-designed
and well-made and is beautiful for that reason alone.
I don’t think this can be true for photography.
Unless there’s is something a little
incomplete and a little strange,
it will simply look like a copy of something pretty.
~John Loengard

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The annual beauty in a garden once spent is gone forever, except in memory, if not captured in some way.  A camera is one of the ways we who love nature’s fleeting glory take it captive.  Unlike Loengard, I believe photos can be more than just an uninteresting copy of a beautiful thing.  For example part of what you see in the photograph above started out as that of a single rose.  However, as an experiment with some computer technology, I turned the image into something “a little strange,” as Leongard suggests, and it added another level of interest.  If one looks carefully at the altered image, fragmented pieces of what used to be negative spaces in the original photograph now have merged into engaging patterns, and so what can be seen raises questions about how much one really sees.  “While there is perhaps a province in which the photograph can tell us nothing more than what we see with our own eyes, there is another in which it proves to us how little our eyes permit us to see,” claimed documentary photographer and photojournalist, Dorothea Lange. So it is that Hawthorne’s idea could be applied to my rose or his trees or to the reflection of anything, and it would speak a profound truth. We often don’t see what is right under our proverbial noses.  The eternal underlies everything mankind sees, tastes, hears, touches, and smells, so much so that all things seem to quiver from the Divine energy emitted from them.  But it’s only when the Lord’s demure presence is acknowledged that it becomes more and more keenly perceptible.

So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.  ~2 Corinthians 4:18   ✝