Some days the wind is so merciless that the few birds venturing out hasten in their flight, cursing the rougher movements, the lack of food, the strain of wings.
Some days the sand blows so briskly that it stings, minuscule dots of quartz and glass co-mingling with the sharper air that pulls my breath away.
Some days seem ripe for staying in and lolling here and there on softer sofas than this.
Yet some days lay splendidly before us, mingling breath and sea and quartz into our dreams.
Last week I had the supreme pleasure of playing with babies, and I can tell you right off that there’s nothing better.
Nothing. But you knew that.
It all started with a parental trip to the hinterlands of a 40 foot snowfall — the perfect adventure in the perfect location, otherwise known as “too far away for the sitter to throw a tantrum and beg them to come home.”
Consequently, it didn’t matter if the kiddies loved me or loathed me — they were 100% stuck with me for a week. I, of course, was in heaven.
I now realize that I never really envisioned heaven properly. I knew it involved glitter, Bluey, dancing raucously atop the four foot high marble island, tiny tea sets with tiny spoons, and running with scissors. Still, while my own imagination may have begun drooping at least hourly, these babes never once drooped, not even during my mental collapse and their subsequent invasion of the blue and white “good” china. “Ooooh, let’s play flying saucer!!!”
Bath time rodeos? Check! Midnight sonatas? Check! The quick consummation of 5 bags (at 48 pieces per bag) of chicken nuggets for dinner three nights in a row? Check! Painting grandma’s hair with glitter bombs? Check!
But oh the joy of it all — I just can’t tell you — though I’ll gladly share a bit below:
Images taken at Atlanta Botanical Gardens, Fernbank, and Virginia Highlands, left to right: Smiling Giant, Wishful Thinking, Giant Wooden Forest Tulips, A Garden of Mesh Birds, the Water Maiden, Happy Frogs, Planting for Spring, Pure Joy
Fluff my petals, Sweet Pink. Splatter me with color til I’m overfull and drool my yellow footprints smack across the roads. I crave the crazed inanity of a blue-tailed skink, the bite-me brilliance of a psycho-electric bleeding heart, the frivolity of sidewalk elms sporting useless knitted frocks. Color me. Color me to insanity and genius, then wipe me clean and color me some more.
The photos below are from recent walks around Charlotte, mostly in South End. Newspaper Box on Camden Road, Mural Detail by Carlleena Person on Camden Road, Glass at Ciel Gallery, Spinach Wrap at Common Market, Farmer’s Market Veggies, Candy Wrapper Purse (happily mine), Pastels at Cheap Joe’s Art Stuff, Road Kill of a Kinder Kind on East Boulevard, Smiley Face on the Painted Bench at Common Market, you make my days.
Pam Goode Writes 