The roses are in full bloom! We have wonderful roses climbing up our chimney, and they’ve finally burst into bloom. One of Claire’s favorite things is to admire the roses. (I took the above photo with Glenda, and as you can see, Claire takes smelling the roses very seriously.)
I hear that’s good advice, you know: Stop and smell the roses. We do, and they’re right! It makes the day just that much better.
The Shadow Portrait is back in the header! (If you read this in a FeedReader, go check it out!)
This last Friday, we were able to play outside in the gorgeous weather and take pictures of the fall leaves in the backyard. Daddy had the day off from work and was working on landscaping, and Claire and I were having a great time helping him and playing hide-and-seek. It was a wonderfully warm, fall day.
As the sun got to the right angle, Daddy took a break, and we wandered around the yard playing with our shadows, trying to capture the wonderful autumn colors and our shadows in the same frame.
The key to getting a good shadow portrait is to just keep clicking the camera and sort them out when you have a chance to sit down at the computer. You never know which ones will look the best or capture the message you’re trying to convey.
I got a lot of good shots, and as I looked at all the photos, one just leapt off the screen.
Click to enlarge: Autumn Shadow Portrait 2008
Normally, I try to hide the shadow of the camera in The Shadow Portrait, and those pictures rarely make the cut. But, this one spoke to me. This shadow portrait captures exactly how I feel when I write. I try to capture bits and pieces of our lives and record them. I don’t want to forget the details. The everyday details are an integral part of everything. They make up our lives, but they are easily lost in the passage of time.
How can something so important at the time be forgotten? It’s because the tiny details are no match for the big picture. Many times, something happens, and I have the urge to write it down. Then, I’ll think to myself, “Okay…I’ll write about this…but how could I ever forget this!?”
But I do. Often times, I look through the archives of the things I’ve written and the memories come flooding back to me.
It just solidifies in my mind that I won’t remember these things on my own. I need to record this. I don’t want to forget the details.
That’s what this picture represents to me.
This picture, which was just a random moment, shows a typical shot of the three of us. I’m the recorder of the details (this time, my tool is the camera…and now my writing…). If you could hear what was going on when the camera captured this image, you’d hear the three of us laughing. You can see the interaction between Claire and Daddy. She’s showing him a stick that she’s found, and he’s answering all of her questions about it and the world around her. In fact, just after I snapped this photo, she bent down and asked us both why the reddish plants in the picture are called Dragon’s Blood. How did the Dragon get hurt, and why did he bleed all over the plants, and where is he now?
This picture is so us, and I love it.
I don’t ever want to forget the moment we had playing in the leaves, exploring all the colors of autumn, and explaining that no Dragons were harmed in our backyard. And, now, I won’t.
We have a huge cholla cactus in our backyard. I wrote about it last year, around this time, and you can check out that post here. (It was a post about how I put Claire a little too close to it during a photo shoot, and she tried to touch the pretty flowers, resulting in Momma and Daddy learning how to remove cactus spines…)
Things are blooming a little later this year than last year, and this cactus has finally exploded into its wonderful magenta color. I dare say that the wonderful color almost detracts from the neighbor’s ramshackle fence and the weeds.
Click photos to enlarge.
Clicking a second time will show more detail.
As you can see, it’s almost regained most of its height. About four years ago, we got four feet of snow in one fell swoop, during an uncharacteristically bad spring storm. That wreaked havoc all over our city, but most importantly, broke our cactus. The poor thing couldn’t withstand the weight of all the snow and it fell in on itself. We weren’t sure how long it would take for it to reach back up to where it was. Well, it’s made it!
It’s almost five feet high and nearly eight feet wide. And to think the original owners brought it home in a coffee cup.
Granted, that was over 30 years ago…
And, to give some perspective as to how big it is, here is a picture of Claire standing next to it. The first one was taken last year and is one of the pictures that resulted in our impromptu cactus spine removal session. The second picture was taken Sunday evening. (You can see the difference in light between morning and evening, and the cactus is on an incline, so it may be hard to tell how tall it is, based on Claire’s height…but I love seeing the difference a year makes!)
As you can see, both Claire and the cactus have grown.
So, like the iris and the roses, we inherited this gorgeous plant. And, just like with the iris and the roses, I can’t take credit for its success. I’m merely along for the ride. I mean, it has little offshoots that grow near the base of it, and we do replant them in other places throughout our landscaping design. We also clean the trash out of it (you’d be amazed at the things that blow over the fence from the street in back) and pull the weeds around it (albeit not that often and not before taking these pictures *cough*), but other than that, it grows all on its own.
Every year, by the time the first day of summer rolls around, I wait anxiously for the magenta blooms to start glowing, wondering when we’ll get a glimpse of this breath-taking color.
Click photo to enlarge.
Clicking a second time will show more detail.
The Linden tree right outside my home office is in full bloom. The sweet, heady scent is one that can only be experienced…not described. It’s incredible.
When the windows are open, the breeze makes the whole house smell wonderful.
I love the name we chose for Claire, and I think it suits her well, but I have a secret. I’ve been in love with this tree since the day we moved in, and when I was pregnant with Claire, the blossoms of this magnificent tree made me want to honor her with its name. Linden could be a girl’s name. I even found it in one of those online name-database-thingies.
But, Mrs. Reality jumped in and took my hubby’s side, both of them ganging up against me.
“You can’t name our daughter after a tree,” he said.
Mrs. Reality nodded. “What he said,” she said coldly.
“Even a tree that smells so good?” I asked.
Mrs. Reality shook her head.
“Even a tree that smells so good,” he said.
Party Poopers.
When we bought this house seven years ago, we discovered a wonderful rose plant on the side of the house. It hadn’t been cared for in years, and it was literally lying out across the path between our house and the neighbors’ house.
We painstakingly installed a trellis to the chimney (using chicken wire we’d found under the deck. Yes, there were rolls of chicken wire under our deck…don’t ask. We don’t know.) and were quite pleased with the result. The roses were up out of the way, and they were gorgeous.
Every year, I go out and tie up the new branches. I don’t trim them. I don’t water them. I don’t feed them. I tie them up, take pictures of them and smell them every day. (I’ve been told to take time to do that, and it works wonders on the psyche.) It never fails that I’m impaled by the thorns when I try to organize the new branches on the trellis…and they aren’t your typical rose thorns. They are nasty, brutal, hooked monsters. But the pain is worth the beauty.
Before we left for our trip, our roses hadn’t exploded yet. One solitary bloom had burst open, and I was so afraid that I’d miss them this year. So, I took a picture.
Click photos to enlarge.
Clicking a second time will show more detail.
One Beautiful Rose
And, when we got home a week later, I ran out with my camera to see what had happened while we were gone.
They’re here!
To give you an idea as to how tall the roses are, here is a picture we took in June of 2006. My hubby is over 6ft tall. You may recognize the little person he’s holding.
So, my roses are blooming, and I couldn’t be happier. And, like the iris, I honestly can’t take credit for their success, but at least I get to enjoy them. 
On Monday evening, I took Claire out to see the iris growing in our backyard. They were still tightly bound into their deep purple tips. “I wonder when they’re going to bloom?” I asked.
The very next morning, I got my answer:
What a difference a day makes!
The cholla cactus we have in the back yard has erupted into glorious magenta blooms. This cactus is HUGE. The original owners of the house brought it home from the countryside in a coffee cup, and now all its arms create a mass that is over four feet tall and over five feet in diameter. One of the horrible blizzards we had a few years ago knocked it down a couple notches, but it survived and is going strong.
Claire is enthralled with the “Pretty Flowers!” so I wanted to get a picture of it. I decided to put her in the picture to give some idea as to how large and expansive this cactus really is.
I decided to take her out to the cactus in the morning when the blooms were big, and also long before her nap, because she always throws a fit when we have to come inside, and getting her to take a nap after such a travesty of injustice would be nearly impossible.
So, with camera in hand, out we went. Daddy decided to stay in the kitchen to finish breakfast and get started on his projects for the weekend.
Everything was going really well, and I made her stand where she wouldn’t fall into the cactus. That would be horrible! Removing cactus spines was not on the top of my list of things I wanted to do today.
I clicked a couple pictures, and then about 15 seconds into lining up the third shot, Claire actually touched the “Pretty Flowers!” Yikes!! This kind of cactus actually releases its spines into its victim, rather than keeping them!! (Who knew!?) She had about 45 spines sticking out of her palm and fingers.
I scooped her up so quickly, she had no idea what was happening. She then threw a fit, not so much because of the spines in her hand, but because she didn’t want to go into the house! She was so mad that she made little balls with her fists, and that made the cactus spines dig in even deeper!
Luckily, Daddy was still in the kitchen, and he had to help me hold her hand open and pull the spines out with tweezers.
Ugh.
I think we got most of them out, and then she insisted on going back out to look at the “Pretty Flowers!” She’d shake her head ‘no’ and point to her hand and the flowers and say, “NO TOUCH! Pretty Flowers.” It was pretty funny (and not funny at the same time).
When we got back in the house, I put a piece of mailing tape on her hand and got even more out that way! I hope we got them all. That cactus is so deceiving! I guess we’ve both learned our lessons…and I’m not sure who was in more pain: Momma or Claire.
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