Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
In the moment of the soft swell
Of a calm curl,
The gentle foam
Belays the power of
The waves that lift ocean liners
And cradle whales.
A breath
Before
Exhale.
Thank you, Terri, for this prompt. Perfect for today. For me, the shore is the ultimate calibrator. I took this photo in Ogonquit, Maine, quite too many years ago. Time to go back. Time to go to the beach. Any beach. For breath, for awe, for space, for zen.
For Sunday Stills: Essence of Zen
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Up close
The purple pinks into the blue
And makes the hues
Shine through.
Up close
You can forget yourself
As edges curl
And bloom unfurls
In you.
Photo: Adi Rozen-Zvi
In the blink
Of an eye
And a lifetime,
On the wing
Fleeting by
For the one time.
For Sunday Stills: Creatures and critters with wings
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
White puffed blue
Spreads above
To the wide horizon.
For the Sunday Stills Challenge: Blue
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
There’s naught much more needed
To fill the heart with song,
Than the Great Outdoors
With loved ones along.
For Sunday Stills: The great outdoors
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Stop to breathe,
Take in ease,
Back to bark in
Summer breeze.
Shadow’s cool
City’s still,
In the park
Time to chill.
For the Sunday Stills challenge: Stillness
Photo: Ofir Asif
He took the path in shadow, and it seemed he was forever chasing sunlight as it progressed across the crater faster than his feet could carry him.
Bone-dry tired as he was.
It was better, he supposed, to be in the shadow. He was, he knew, perilously close to collapse.
Still the sun called to him. The shimmer played a trick upon his eyes and he craved the light even as he knew to fear it.
He’d been crossing deserts for what felt like a millennia of a parched destiny.
In linear time it had not been even quite a week …
Since he took the path of shadow.
In life. In hope of refuge. In this.
The sun slunk lower, further elongating the darkened tide of baked dirt, spreading to gobble up the fast receding patch of light.
He’d need to make camp soon.
One time had been plenty to be taken by surprise.
He knew.
Shadow will not wait long to turn into pitch dark.
For Terri’s Sunday Stills: Path
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
You look down from the edge
To see,
The world bottoming out
From what could be.
The waters
That will take with them
Again
To sea,
All that has come
Before
And will one day
Once more
Be free.
For the Sunday Stills Challenge: Edge
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
“Look, Mama,” the child called, a soft fist held aloft as she ran, delighted, toward her mother. “I found some polka-dot blueberries!”
“Wait, where? Let me see? Those aren’t … Did you eat any?”
The child shrugged and twirled away, fingers closing protectively over a grimy palm that still held some blue orbs of what-mama-said-are-not-really-blueberries.
“Wait! Get back here. I need to see those again … Are you sure you didn’t eat any? They could make you very sick! And …” the woman looked around their deserted picnic blanket. “Where is your brother..? Where’s Eric!?”
“Oh,” the little girl pranced out of reach, and gestured vaguely in the direction of the trees beyond the forest clearing. “There. He found polka-dot strawberry mushrooms!”
Note: Inspired by a true story of a family I know, whose summer picnic ended up with a call to Poison Control, an ambulance, and two children in the Emergency Department. One child was fine. The second child eventually got better. Mama still can’t touch berries or mushrooms. Teach your children about the dangers of foraging and instruct them to not pick or eat (!!) any plant they don’t show you FIRST. …
For Terri’s Sunday Stills: Danger
Photo: Adi Rozen-Zvi
It does not matter
Where you are:
Jungle, mountain
Old or new,
Plastic, wood
Or bamboo, too.
There is play here
To be had
If you wish to …
And you do.
For Terri’s Sunday Stills: Playground
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