Category Archives: Flowers

Pretty Pink Rose

Unlike its neighbor, this pink rose has a deep, vibrant color, and is still just opening, so it’s not full of dirt, debris, and “bee stuff.”

This picture is off-center, but I really liked it that way. The pink contrasts well with the greens.

The wind was blowing a ton when I took these, and especially on these macro shots, focus and composition are a crap shoot.

The photographer’s greatest friend these days is the digital camera! Memory storage is dirt cheap, where film was expensive as hell. If it’s windy, shoot 50-60 pictures, find the two or three that are in focus.

Why rely on skill when you can use statistics?

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Dirty Pink Roses

These are very open, the better to let in the bees!

I also love the tiniest bit of yellow tinge, and the gradation of the pink color near the edges, fading to white.

Deep inside, the iPhone 13 camera grabs details of the rose’s sex organs. Pistils FTW!


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Blood Red Rose

I fortunately rarely see blood in any quantities other than a finger prick for a blood test, so I’m not 100% that descriptor is accurate, but it just rolls off the tongue so well.

Come to think of it, I do see blood in larger quantities, but only in a bag, usually connected to a tube running to a needle in my arm. Not the same shade when seen through that plastic.

At least it’s not, as the 1st grade joke goes, a “brose,” i.e., a rose with a “b” in it!

OF COURSE I’m making “dad” jokes. I’m a dad! It’s right there in the job description!

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Another Way To Piss Off Hummingbirds

First of all, with our extremely territorial male Anna’s Hummingbird, that bar isn’t set real high. He’ll chase off any other hummingbird that comes near the two feeders he can see, and he’ll almost always buzz my head if I go out and stand near one of them.

Today I was out in the back for over six hours, working on what I had hoped would be a half-hour job (don’t ask, I feel like I’ve been beaten with a stick) and during the course of that ordeal I ended up noticing that these flowers on the vines there (morning glories of some sort? I think I looked it up once, but I’m too damn tired to go find it right now) were in bloom, so I took pictures.


Right by my ear, then off to one of the feeders. “I wan’t threatening you, no, honest! I was just going to the feeder and didn’t notice you there!”

Yeah, right. Mark my words, one of these days I’m going to end up in the ER with a live, trapped, pissed off hummingbird in my ear and I’m going to have to explain it to some poor, beleaguered nurse who won’t believe a word I say.

(Okay, I went and looked it up. They’re Lavendar Trumpet Vine flowers.)

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By Any Other Name

I absolutely love the color on this one.

It’s just sitting by the driveway, all alone, minding its own business.

A few days, maybe a week, ten days tops. and it goes from OMG to DOA.

Sort of the definition of “transient,” but holy wow, how glorious for those few days.

I wonder if there are creatures or beings who look at we frail humans and think the same thing of our three score and ten.

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Not Just Another Pretty Flower

I spent my grade school years in Kansas City, so sunflowers and I go way, way back.

It’s refreshing and heartwarming to see the new gig that they’ve gotten as a symbol of Ukraine.

It’s good to see them available in the stores to brighten up our kitchens and homes.

Not that it would be easy to forget about what’s going on in Ukraine right now, but having these around to make it even harder.

I think when this is over and the spectacular Ukranian people are rebuilding their cities and their lives and needing some cash to do it, perhaps an influx of American tourists would help.

I’ll buy into that when the time comes. I love visiting Europe. Brussels. London. Prague is one of my favorite places on the entire planet. Time to see Kyiv in person, see the museums in Lviv, see the architecture in Odessa.

And I’ll also have to make sure to find a huge field of sunflowers under a bright blue sky to just stand in and soak up the beauty. (And the pollen.)


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Another New Spring Start

Yesterday, nada. Zip. Zilch.


Little white flowers silhouetted against a bright blue sky.

Someone’s got their sap flowing! (If you know what I mean…)

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Monday Flower

“Friday Flower” or “Monday Marigold” would have been far more alliterative,

but it’s not Friday and

this isn’t a marigold.

Some days you just have to be grateful that it’s not worse.

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Last Week Was A Long Year

I’m sure that so many of you feel the same way. I hope that for all of us on the big things (COVID, Ukraine, the GQP) get better, or at least stop getting worse, or at a very minimum slow down in how fast they’re getting worse. I hope for each of you that the new week and start of the new month are less stressful and easier on your spleen, although I’m not sure that’s going to be the case for me. Nothing life threatening, I’ll live, but time-wise I’m still trying to put eight pounds of pickles into a five-pound pickle bag. The fact that it used to be ten pounds is only mildly comforting.

Sorry, I don’t have any sunflowers growing in the yard – yet. But this beauty popped out over the weekend as the roses realize that spring is almost here, so it will have to do.

Keep breathing. Stay calm. Punch Nazis.

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The Universe Doesn’t Care

Not to be too much of a buzzkill, but the Universe doesn’t care.

It doesn’t care about Russia invading Ukraine.

It doesn’t care about Putin masterminding Brexit to divide Great Britain or corrupting the American elections to get the Mango Mussolini into the White House.

It doesn’t care about COVID, or the evil forces manipulating the system to make a significant slice of the population anti-science and stupid.

It just doesn’t care.

Yesterday there was NOTHING but bare branches on this tree. Today, it’s got a dozen of these gorgeous pink flowers sprouting. Not sure if the Universe actually cares about this or not, but it’s what the Universe is doing every day and actions speak louder than words.

The Universe is going to move on its merry way, with or without us. If every human being on the planet woke up dead tomorrow morning, this tree would still be exploding with spring flowers.

That’s not necessarily a bad thing at all. But it tells me that the only ones who will EVER give a shit about us is … us. Not the Universe. Not any invisible old dude in the sky.

Nope. It’s just us and only us.

So we had better get our shit together and do a better job about caring about us, ALL OF US, or the Universe will be short one human race in its entirety.

And it still won’t care.

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