DREAMS

Yes, one can dream, and there are always dreams................

and perhaps our lives, our loves, and our hopes

can only be lived and realized in our dreams.

Reality
for many of us, is only that dream............................

What is it that we are seeking?

Do we even know where to look?

How often do we look

and yet

Cannot see that, at which we

are

looking?

Nor

Have found that,

which we

are seeking?

This photo was taken just before my Mother died. It was something that she and I always loved, the beauty of hands. I saw her hands and simply shot quickly, to preserve in my memory the beauty of hers, which had given so much to myself and others.

In order to take a picture of my Mother, you just did it, and asked later. She got used to me with my camera, loved whatever photos I took for her. The best photos were taken when she was unaware. She always knew and understood, so it was always ok, even though we had the same discussion. She would just laugh, and ask for her makeup, (otherwise known as "warpaint") saying that "a little bit of powder, and a little bit of paint, always makes an old lady, what she ain't".

We often wonder at the desolation of life.

As if we were wandering through a virtual desert

while

still attempting to

cope with the difficulties

of life.

How often have we really looked at the seeming desolation around us?

How often have we attempted to see,

not the starkness

or

desolation

but the

intrinsic beauty which is there?



If we continue to view

only the negative

we then fail to see the most

beautiful visions

that we are capable of...



The Beauty of Nature

and all that surrounds us

as it

envelops our minds,

our hearts

and

our souls

CRATERS OF THE MOON

There are times when we walk through, what appears to be, an area or world of desolation.

There appears to be emptiness, starkness.

A world without life, without an impetus for survival.

And yet,.........how closely have we really looked?

Are we blinded by our mind seeing only what we expect to see?

Or, can we look beyond our limited view, and behold the wonders that surround us?

They are really there,

but we can't and don't see them,

simply because we have closed our minds, and limited our vision by doing so.

We must free our minds,

our hearts,

our imaginations

in order to see and appreciate the world

in all the ways

that it presents to us.

The Beauty of Mesa Falls, late in the day, be it in color or B&W

What is it that we are seeking? Do we even know where to look?

How often do we look

and yet

Cannot see that, at which we

are

looking?

The trail, the path, is laden with stones,

that impede our progress.

They are wet and we continue

to slip, slide and sometimes regress

or fall as a result.

The mist ahead keeps us from seeing what is there,

what lies in front.

And,
so, is life.
If we could only know what to expect,
but we don't.
We have to have that faith, which is intrinsic to life,
in order to continue on.

A misstep, will drop us down on the left 3000 ft,
to ultimate fatality, and failure,
while climbing to the right will take us to nothing.

To continue on the path, which is difficult at best,
we must have total faith and trust,
that it will ultimately lead us in a positive way,
in a positive direction to an endpoint,
justifying our faith and trust.

Faith and trust,
not only in ourselves,
but in that Supreme Being,
God,
without Whom,
we can never adequately traverse that path.

No matter how isolated

or alone one must feel,

there is always the light that pierces the loneliness,

our lives

and brings to us, the warmth and closeness of others

when we least expect it.

Those warmths, feelings,

and

closeness are always there

we just fail to recognize them,

to look and see them.

We must ask ourselves,

how often does that occur??

And how often do we ignore the one reaching out to us?

Again, we look,

but we don't see!

The Beauty of a Flower in the Morning

A lock of hair fell across her

forehead

The warm, flickering light of the

candle

outlined the gentle shape of her

face

bringing forth the sweetness of

her lips,

the small pink tip of her tongue

as it so

lightly brushed those lips in that

nervous

gesture which so sensuously

characterized

those soft, perfect lips.

Her hand reached across the

table,

ever so gently covering mine.

The warmth, the smoothness of

the skin

as it touched mine.

The sensation that traveled

through those

hands to mine

Brought reverberations into my

heart

that were an ecstasy of their

own

They penetrated my very self as

her gaze,

accompanying the touch

Pierced my inner soul with the

fire

of a burning brand.

The fever pitch brought about by

the

fervent desire to take her in my

arms,

To hold the beauteous figure

before me,

To feel the gentle touch of her

lips

brushing mine

To feel the warmth of her

closeness

melding her to me

The candlelight, the wine, the

aura of her

All blended itself into a dream

become reality

By her very presence, her

freshness,

her touch, her smell, her taste,

her very being.

She and the night became one,

a maelstrom

of feeling that gradually

became a most

gentle, warm and overwhelming

envelopment

of one's being.

cg

To hold your love in your arms

To know she loves you

To know she needs you

as you her

To brush your hands

Your cheek against hers

To gently touch her lips with yours

To feel that gentle, but electric sensation

pass between those lips

that touch

with the sincerity of love.

To feel the warmth and closeness

That is present

can only be,

when two people

truly love,

care for

and

are totally committed

to each other.



The feeling,

The sensation,

The life

The caring,

The love,

The joy of sharing,

The giving to the other

Not of obligation,

But of total love,

You must give her every reason

To know that you are welcoming her

To all aspects of your life

To share that which is you

and

That which is her.


cg

The sun is setting.

One can hear the surf as it rolls in where whalers used to enter.

The ancient smells still hang in the air, as they must have years ago.

The bush is dense, barely allowing a body to penetrate it.

The cry of the shore birds, as they prepare to nestle down.

The soft lap of the water, as the tide creeps into the bay.

All is at peace, we walk back down the wooden steps,

....................and into the waiting twilight.

Moon Setting in Death Valley

Are we on the earth looking at the moon?

Or,

are we on the moon looking back at the earth?

In either way,

we can envision our place in the universe.

We are as insignificant as the grain of sand,

and yet,

as a person,

a human being,

we are very significant,

each and everyone of us.

In the overall,

we are small,

but in the individual,

we are so much more.

The life we have to give,

the love we have to give and share,

the compassion and understanding that we must give

and

must share with others

are so important

and

only achieve

in the giving and sharing.

While we may appear isolated,

we are not.

We can no more isolate ourselves from society,

from others,

than can the grains of sand in the desert.

Who and what we are is meant to be shared.

Love can and must be shared,

else it is not love in the true sense.

cg

BIG SPRING

AMERICAN FALLS

A Look Into the Past. This is an old Pony Express Station, now long abandoned. It is in the hinterland, the back country of Idaho, where once riders on fast horses passed through carrying the mail. A brief time in history, but one with many legends and memories. Regardless of the time we look back to, there are reminders, memories that come forth to prompt us today.

Listen very carefully.

In the silence, we begin to hear the faint sound of voices, the crackle of brush

as

The Ancient Ones make their way down the canyon.

The whisper of the wind as it gently moves the leaves adding to the sound of the voices of the Ancient Ones.

We can sense their spirits moving around us as in many days gone by.

Feel the peace,

hear the sound,

sense the Ancient Ones

who once lived here in Falling Roof.

It is distant, but the sound emanates through the canyon. "A third of the fall is hidden behind the vast cloud of spray which forever conceals the mad play of the waters beneath: but the mighty turmoil of that recess in the rocks may be judged from the deep-toned thunder which rises in ceaseless cadence and jars the air for miles around." H. Chittenden, 1895

Acadia National Park, Bar Harbor, Maine