Maine Flower Show arrives at Thompson's Point Outdoor Center.

Maine Flower Show, 
               one more day, 
                       first year at Thompson's Point Outdoor Center. 


What a wonderful breath of spring! Inside, not outside, after all, it's only the last few minutes of April Fool's Day.  So we'll let it pass away and take a few moments Sunday to take in a bit of Spring with a Super Capital S.

 

The new venue at Thompson's Point offers an expanded view of the displays and more of an opportunity to interact with them.  Many offer low walls that are just the right height for seating and it is delightful to wander through the show seeing people enjoying and taking the time to relax in the midst of the wonderful exhibits.  The blending of landscape exhibits and vendor booths allows for an ease of taking it all in in bits, and with a great deal more space in the aisles.  Delightful.

And always the Volunteers that help make it all happen.

Simplicity.

                             

Strolling through the gardens.

Come right into my wonderful garden space.

Found Marilyn with her skirt blowing in the wind.

Throughout the show, you find not only beauty,

but all the tools and ideas you need to make them happen.

Reflections on Turning 68.

On the full Moon of my birthday week, I saw it rise out of the North Atlantic and began to experiment with some new watercolor paints.  Great value but not of the highest quality but in tubes rather than my higher quality dry paints.  This experimenting with watercolors from the tubes gave a new fluidity to my painting and brought a new softness to my expression.  I like the feel and flow of ease in life and so many times, it takes only a small change to make a large difference in that ease.

And there is another ease which is great fun for all of us these days.  Facebook.  How to stay in touch with Friends near and far and with reminders of years past and with birthday reminders.  It is now so easy to check in and give a birthday hello.  I've heard people comment that it doesn't take much effort, but again, sometimes it is a little change that makes a big difference.

On Facebook, over the last few days I've received so many wonderful comments from people I know only from Facebook to dear friends to family.  This moment of ease, when we are reminded of a birthday and can share in that celebrating brings an interesting richness to life.  As each of you said Hello via FB, I flashed back to meeting you, to times and events that we have shared.  And OH MY!!

It has been Wonderful knowing all of you, you people who have all contributed to the colorful tapestry of my life.  Thank you for taking even the smallest moment to say, I know you joined this Earth on this DAY and it's your Birthday!

So to ALL of you, thank you and to those who have been feeding me through my Birthday week, an even larger thank you.  The Yellow Rose is the symbol of Friendship.

Thank you My Friends.

Here's to you!  and to learn more about Yellow Roses, keep scrolling.

Click on image to go to Proflowers website.

With their optimistic hue and general association with good cheer, yellow roses are the perfect way to toast friends, lift spirits and send a general wish for well-being. And that’s great news for those who love roses—the rose is known for its simple, architectural beauty, but some colors are so loaded with significance that they can be a bit tricky to work with. Sending a get-well bouquet of red roses to your administrative assistant might raise eyebrows around the office, for instance. Suffice it to say, you can never go wrong with yellow roses.

Long associated with the sun and its life-giving warmth, yellow is the age-old spokes-color for warm feelings of friendship and optimism. In many Eastern cultures, the color represents joy, wisdom and power. But while any yellow flower will send a lighthearted message, the history of the yellow rose in particuar has an optimistic, serendipitous character that really makes it the complete package.

By the 18th century the worldwide love of roses was in full swing, but they were only cultivated in shades of pink and white. At last, the elusive yellow rose was discovered growing wild in the Middle East, and the European love affair with yellow roses was born. The early yellow rose lacked the sweet scent for which the rose is famous, however, which was not to be tolerated. So, as cultivation methods were developed and refined, the beloved sweet-and-spicy rose scent was soon introduced and the yellow rose achieved all its optimistic and aromatic glory.

Sometimes we know....

                                                                                                        and sometimes we don't.



My engagement in my healing process slows me down, makes me consider new things and rearrange the path of my healing on an as need basis.

Sometimes it is very clear what is in front of us and what direction will happen next, but in our lives we often carry old baggage and I am determined not to let old baggage join me in the next stages of my life.  What will they be?  How can I know without going through the process of the unfolding.

My friend Deb said, everyone needs to see this Dr I have just seen, he is an amazing healer. He is now part of my path as well and each visit releases more of my old stuff and frees my body and soul.  I am glad to have met Tom Gilson of Osteopathic Healthcare of Maine, to talk with him, receive his healing energy channeling and advisements.  Today, today my third eye was quiet during much of the treatment but then colors unfamiliar to me came forth in the following visions.



What do they mean?

 It will unfold but is not known at this time.

Loving the Landscape

This mornings read, from Deepak Chopra's The Way of the Wizard, suggests (for I believe that all readings are suggestions that we personally need to explore for ourselves and decide which of them are our own truths) that when we label something or someone, then the path of that interaction (with a person) is predetermined by the label and that the labeling of an object or think, (like a tree) takes us away from the spirit of that tree.  I have often wrestled with this conceptually because I have found that labels can be huge time savers, they can convey significant amounts of information which could or could not be accurate.With this in mind, I, who have not been walking lately, set out on a morning walk.  As I prepared my tea to take for the drive to the trail, this image from my friend Sandy spoke loudly to me.  I left wondering just what might be solved.

Perhaps it is the trail of footsteps that lightly disturb the leaves, left perhaps by a deer or the wind or even a person.  Ah, the labels, wondering if applying a label to what disturbed the leaves will tell me more about what or who passed before me.

Ruffled Path

As I walked I wondered about writing and painting,
"How can one share the essence of love that one
experiences through nature and life, what would
be the essence of a painting that would share with
another the love behind, embodied in the image."
Would this become another label?

Over the trestle I walked looking at the water, considering it high this time of year and then wondering if the lack of water lilies and pads led me to think the water was higher than usual.  Was it just another illustion?
Then a splash of color caught my eye, heart, interest and then my camera caught the image.  My mind wandered to wonder if the tree chose that location for life on the riverbank or was it just a random happening?  Am I just anthromorphizing?

 If I love this would it be wrong to acknowledge the labels that mankind have come to use in identification?
What of it is love?  The joy of being on the riverbank? For me or for the tree? The miracle of color in the December landscape?

What along the way asks us to stop and reflect on the perfection that is around us?  Today, in the low light of this grey December day it is the perfection of a shelf mushroom (ah, damn label) or the colors that catch the eye and heart yet again?

Walk on,
one foot after another,
in keeping with the walking
I find myself simply counting the rhythm.

Tonight I get to count,
in my being,
the rhythm of the dance
but for now it will simply be the rhythm of the steps.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve,

over again, one, two...







Now another rhythm captures me, that of the stately pines as river's edge.

Then finally today, a realization that the sandpit that I have walked by for years, that was simply a sandpit is actually connected to the Shaw Brother's Sandpit that is along Rte 237.  Boy, look at those labels!  Then I wondered if the removal of the trees and the sand brought us closer to the heart of the earth by the opening and allowing us to touch the under layers of the earth, the sandpit?

Good day, good thoughts.