Outside the youth center, between the liquor store
and the police station,
a little dogwood tree is losing its mind;
overflowing with blossomfoam,
like a sudsy mug of beer;
like a bride ripping off her clothes,
dropping snow white petals to the ground in clouds,
so Nature’s wastefulness seems quietly obscene.
It’s been doing that all week:
and throwing it away,
and making more.
by Tony Hoagland an excerpt of “A Color of the Sky”
from What Narcissism Means to Me (2003)
The raindrop is real; the color is a dream. 😊
Our first attempt at blowing bubbles and watching them freeze. Unfortunately, it was not cold enough (only low 20s) for them to freeze quickly enough or last long enough (despite our fail-proof recipe) to capture them in their full spherical splendor. After all of our efforts, we can only offer you a blurry bit of a half bubble. But at least it is a very bright bubble! 😊
[I know someone who is going to love this color! (😉 AmazingSusan)]