Walking the Trail

My in-laws have a wonderful trail on their property that I love to walk when we visit.  It feels otherworldly to be encapsulated by trees and shadows, with only a bit of sky visible between branches. St. Francis welcomes our entrance, and at night, you can see dozens of fireflies burping their soft light.  I am so glad I'll get to walk the trail again in a few weeks.

Bunny People

These are a few of my favorite pictures of the bunnies.  Greta is sweet, calm, and always concerned about what I'm doing with the camera.  And Honey is exactly how she appears:  indignant when the food is late and ready to hop with her friend.

With our recent adoption of Lucy from the Hereford Humane Society, we've had quite the petting zoo at our house.  Every day is just a regular ol' lovefest.

Bitterweed

Last weekend I decided to walk the Llano Estacado Nature and Wildflower Trails, a 3.5 mile path that winds through an archeological site.  This area was once a dependable source of water:  a natural spring lake with miles of shallow marshlands that attracted giant creatures and the native peoples who hunted them. 11,000 years later, what seems an unbelievable myth has disappeared into the ground and all that we see now are miles of hot, dusty earth and our ever-attempts to make sense of this place.

Alone in the heat, I thought about the irony of this wildflower trail and the bitterness of lost water.  

But as I kept taking pictures, I began to realize that even in the absence of water, life endures.  

It hardens, grows stronger and more brilliant. 

As I thought this, my shutter clicked and a coyote moved across a field.

Bloom where you are planted.  I can do this, too.

Flowers photographed include globe mallow, giant dagger yucca, prickly poppy, and bitterweed.  Lucy is photographed with slender stem bitterweed from our backyard.

Eclipsed

Sunday was an eventful day in Lubbock.  It was the last day to view a solar eclipse that the U.S. hasn't seen in 18 years.  To celebrate, we had a picnic in the park where we could watch the eclipse. However, I got caught up watching other things ...

 I know I won't wait another 18 years to have a picnic like that.

Fuchshund

When we visited the Dallas Museum of Art, I was happy to see Gustave Courbet's "Fox in the Snow" again.  Although it is violent, I find it very beautiful.  The shawdowing -  the blacks, blues, and grays - the contrast of the fox against the brightness of the snow - all these elements (I am poorly describing) create a painting I could view every day.

But then again ... 
 

I don't think I need a painting when I already have a little fox-hound at home!

Horny Toad

A few weeks ago we had a little surprise waiting for us by the front door:  a Texas horned lizard or "horny toad."  This little fellow was so docile and sweet.  His face, skin, and feet were full of wonderful detail.

  

David had never seen one in person and was enthralled.  I hadn't seen one since an afternoon playing on my back porch in Post when I was 4.  Once an endangered species, they are now protected. We both wondered why this rare little creature picked our front porch for a rest.

 

We put him in our front garden, where he quickly disappeared, but that hasn't stopped us from pausing there everyday to see if he's still with us.

A Reminder

For the past few months I've been suffering from the most terrible attitude about where I am. Such an attitude can completely consume you, debilitating your work, relationships, and spiritual journey.  

After a very tearful conversation with a close adviser, I was reminded that I must pass through this desert before I can expect to live in greener places. "You must pass through this desert" has dominated my thoughts the past few days and has brightened my perspective.  It is no accident this came to me at the end of Lent, near the end of our desert of waiting.  

Wishing you a blessed Easter and Paschal season.