Possibilities . . .

We've recently moved.  We love our new (very old) house, and part of the fun of starting over is discovering all of the pieces of the picture that unfold with each new day.  I will admit, it being a house built in 1930, some of the surprises are not all together happy ones; but many of them are!  It's fun seeing little glimpses of the past or watching what comes up in the yard as different weather makes its way here.

This morning, as I headed out with Sadie for our walk, I loved seeing all of the fall blooms that emerged overnight.  I couldn't help but smile, wondering who planted the bush?  What were they going through at the time it was planted?  How long did they imagine it might bring smiles?  Etc., etc., etc.

If you've read this blog for any length of time at all, you know that my brain works like that.  I like wondering.  I like imagining.  And . . . well, I like flowers that bloom overnight without my help!

I was delighted by the blooms, I was.  As I walked, though,  I realized I was actually more delighted by something else - something not as beautiful, but more giving, I believe.  (I hope no former English teachers are reading this - I'm well aware there were some rule breaks in the former sentence.  That's the way I wanted, though.  So there.)

What delighted me most - what brought me the most hope - was the bountiful number of buds.  The bush is laden with buds too many to count.  That means flower after flower after flower, for days and days.  That means that as we begin to don our jackets and sweaters, we are promised the gifts of blooms and blooms.  I love that!

I spent the rest of my walk considering the gifts of possibilities.  I wondered how many I pass by and don't notice.  I wondered how many times I see the picture right in front of my face but fail to notice and wonder about the possibilities hanging all around.

What other possibilities are out there?  Are you missing any?

Good-bye to Spring with a Stroll Through Miss Loy's Garden

I have been meaning to get these photos on the blog for some time.  I realize that today is the first day of summer, so I guess it is time!  They are special.  As much as I love what I do, it is sometimes nice to photograph with a different intent - these photos are just that.

Miss Loy is a living legend in my town.  She is a beautiful southern woman, smart and witty, and she is a gardener unlike any I've known.  A stroll in her garden is a gift.  Every time I get to visit the garden, which she so graciously shares with us all, I am reminded that it's important to slow down and notice - really look at what surrounds us.  Miss Loy's garden is the perfect place to look with careful eyes.

Many times I have photographed precious children in this garden, and each time the child or children tiptoe through the garden, knowing they are amongst magic and love.  They see the beauty, without being reminded to take a closer look.  I love to watch them, as we round a corner and they peer carefully to see if there is a surprise.  There always is . . . there is always something more beautiful with each new look.  The only thing I don't like about photographing in Miss Loy's garden is that it leaves me no time to take long, selfish looks - to watch carefully enough to remember some of the beauty until the next time I'm there.

A few weeks ago on a Friday afternoon, I found myself with a few free hours.  Yes, I could have cleaned my house or edited photos or gone grocery shopping, but I thought of something better.  The kids had just finished a long week of school and were content to hang out at home, so I loaded up my bag and headed over to Miss Loy's.  I relished in the quiet, in the beauty, and I wandered along slowly.  I only took a break for a wonderful conversation with the gardener herself, as she told me stories of some of the trees and plants, her ideas and what this amazing area had once looked like.

I did not have to hurry.  I was not chasing happy children.  I was just alone with my camera, a few well-designed foot-stone paths and the birds.  I decided as I strolled and looked that I would experiment a bit and look for opportunities for photographs I had not taken before; that I'd take images that represented the garden in a different way.  It is not possible to completely capture the beauty of something this special, but I enjoyed trying.

I hope the photos, coupled with this beautiful hymn sung by Beth Neilsen Chapman, will remind you to slow down when you can.  I hope this slideshow will remind you and me, and all of those who hurry , that beauty awaits us - if we'd only look.

Miss Loy, thank you for your vision, your perseverance over these years of gardening and for showing us what is possible.


Thank you, too, for sharing your special gift with us all.

I hope you all can take a few minutes and enjoy the movie.  Click on the link below:

Strolling Through Miss Loy's Garden

Listen up!

As I looked at this yesterday afternoon . . .

I remembered the four, yes four, times that the nice man at Carmax asked me if I needed to get anything else from my car.  

It went down as follows:

I drive into the bay for my car repair.  I scan the car to get all of the things I need.  I will be leaving it for a few days.  I grab a few items.  I do not think about, nor do I grab, the 'clicker' for the garage that lets me into my home or my house key.

I go into the office.  The nice many says, "Mrs. Graham, do you need to get anything out of your car?"

I think about it.  'No, thanks, I've got it all.'  That's number 1.

I complete some paper work.  The nice man asks me about my insurance information since I will be getting a 'loaner' car.  I need to go to the car to find my card.  The nice man says,  "You can have another check to see if there is anything in there that you need to grab."  I go to the car to fetch the insurance information.  I find it easily.  I look around.  I do not think about, nor do I grab, the 'clicker' for the garage that lets me into my home or my house key.  That's number 2.


We finish up the paperwork.  Another nice man is washing the loaner car.  The first nice man says, "I'll go bring your car around to the repair area.  Is there anything else you want to get out before I leave with it?"  'No, I'm good.  Thanks.'  I do not remember, nor do I grab, the 'clicker' for the garage that lets me into my home or my house key.  That's number 3.


The second nice man comes to tell me that my loaner car is washed and ready to go.  I laugh and say, "The car you're giving me is a lot cleaner than the car I'm giving you!"  'Oh, no problem, ma'm.  Speaking of your car, is there anything you need to get out of there before you leave?  "No, thanks, though.  I've got everything."  I do not think about, nor do I grab, the 'clicker' for the garage that lets me into my home or my house key.  That's number 4.


And so today, my friends, from inside my home (that my children helped me break into) I consider this . . . are there times that God, the universe, luck, providence, and fate are all working desperately to get me to notice something?