Breathing in, I see myself as a flower. Breathing out, I feel fresh. During the time of breathing in you have to see yourself as a flower. We human beings, we are a variety of flower in the garden of humanity. Everyone of us, whether we are a gentleman or a lady. Every one of us has our flowerness that makes us beautiful, fresh, and pleasant.
—-Thich Nhat Hanh, on facebook 15 August 2010
At daybreak, the almost black clouds rolled behind the mesa like a sail being cranked down a mast. The sun eventually peeked over the edge after highlighting wisps of cloud into intense brilliance. The darkness drooped and light was shining again. But while it was too overwhelming to gaze upon, blinding in its spectacular emergence, the real story was in the opposite direction.
When I descended to the camp, I found a row of other spectators facing not to the east and the newly dawned fireball, but gazing to the west, watching the play of light upon the mountains in the distance, the hills in-between, the rolling plains. The light brought the greens to new life, to a fresh day. The blue sky cleared of haze and foggy wisps to become its own perfection.
Lesson: The story that morning was in what the light shone upon, not in the sun itself.
These are poppies on the campus of Stanford University but they are also powerful memory triggers. When I walked up on this field, I gasped remembering the fields and roadsides of France wheres splotches of bright red sprang up from the most surprising places…looking at them was like looking at joy.
On Fourth Street in San Francisco…
The New Guinea Sculpture Garden at Stanford University, created by ten master carvers from the Middle Sepik River Region of Papua New Guinea in the summer of 1994. “The project is not an attempt to recreate a traditional New Guinea environment but, according to Mason [the project director], ‘an opportunity to experiment with and reinterpret New Guinea aesthetic perspectives within the new context of a Western public art space.’ ” Read more here.
An enthusiastic resident of Palo Alto…
Isn’t it cute? (And it was quite tasty too!)
It certainly seems so. Under these buckets are three pepper plants and one tomato that my enthusiastic neighbor bought and planted in our little garden space. Alas, the pepper leaves have all dropped off leaving only bare stalks to bear this cold and the top leaves of the tomato have blackened like a face with frostbite. I fear we will have to start again, but I feel responsible for these fragile beings while they still stand.
You’re not the only one!
Treats, treats, and more treats!
Some don’t realize that hot cross buns really exist. Ta da!
…a hundred years to grow it and an hour to cut it down…
attentiontolife.com 
