
the ducklings have grown
their limpid pond has turned green–
the dog star rises
–photo by me

the ducklings have grown
their limpid pond has turned green–
the dog star rises
–photo by me

water lilies
are like souls;
they transcend
the murky scum
of stagnant ponds
and remain
pure
–photo by me

my lost inner child
hangs out on a hill among
a few wildflowers
we run into each other
more and more as i grow old
–photo by me

My father was never an avid fisherman, and neither am I. Or should I say, SO neither am I? It seems like most of my friends that are really into it, had fathers that were, too. It makes me wonder if they really find fishing so alluring, or is it about fond memories of quality time with their fathers alone in a boat together?
When you realize that many of your likes and dislikes were actually chosen for you by someone else, you may feel at a loss at just who you are. Am I my father? My Mother? Who am I?
And that’s where the quote by Oscar Wilde comes in, about who to be. It’s one of my favorites; it hits me like a zen koan:
“Be yourself.
Everyone else is
Already taken.”
–Photo/art by me

curious cattails look on
as the banks of the river
are flooded with flowers
–photo by me

fresh black-eyed susans–
each wanting to tell her own
side of the story
–photo by me

Come down
To the bar with me–
The air is cool
And drinks are free!
Come watch your
Worries disappear,
No shirt? No shoes?
No problem here!
It’s happy hour
Every day
Down at the perfect
Hide-away,
And if you still
Don’t feel free,
We’ll swim out
To the sea.
–Photo by me

–photo by me

a sun-kissed
morning mist
dances o’er
the creek
and makes
it all
so magical
enshrouded
in mystique
–photo by me

a songbird sings out–
and makes the weary world
seem all right again
–photo by me