My neighbor, Alex, grows the most magnificent dahlias.
End of August, beginning of September they begin unfurling their many petals forming softball sized orbs of wings.
I used to strive for the perfect photo of the perfect flower at the perfect time of day. I've moved toward favoring a flower's reality. The dust of orange pollen. Petals just beginning to add a touch of brown to their whiteness.
Edges of a frothy delight.
3 comments:
I AM GLAD YOU'RE BACK FROM THE CAVE...missed your posts, and this one is stunning, the photos, your thoughts and writing.
a good friend AND a good writer!!
and good philosophy for our lives...NOT TO WAIT for the perfect photo, flower, moment, time...but 'breathing in' our realities!!
hmmmmm, this is very VLL . . .for the new blog!!
I think they must all be perfect ..... so the search is in past tense .... Perfectly beautiful
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