I wandered lonely as a cloud....
William Wordsworth
Dear Imaginary Reader,
I am not a poet, but I do see poetry everywhere I turn. Visual poetry, that is. Today, while digging in my garden, I saw flowers and green shoots, that were like the very elixir of life.
Everywhere I see inspiration; nature is magic.
The colors of the sky make me swoon with delight. Tonight, there is a phenomenon called the Supermoon. I guess that will bring forth some super werewolves, but at any rate, it is 10% larger and brighter than usual. It is closer to the Earth than it has been in about 900 years. It is big and yellow, like a happy face from the seventies.
I saw the most beautiful thing this week at garden club. A friend brought in, for the horticulture competition, a branch from her Japanese apricot tree. This is an ornamental tree, and you cannot eat these particlular apricots.
She waits all year for it to bloom, and then poof, it's over. Today I drove over to her house just to photograph it in all its magnificence. The flowers are single, open cups of pink. The flowers are so prototypically Oriental in their beauty, so delicate.
Perfection is fleeting in the world of gardening. Art gives me more shelf life, as it were. If I can capture a beautiful image, it will last for at least 100 years, if it is oil painted on canvas.
The Japanese apricot tree blooms for only one week of each year. But I have to say, I like Nature's work better than mine, even though it is here today and gone tomorrow. If my paintings are essays, then the blooming trees are poems.
Your Imaginary Friend,
Patsie
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