Searching For Beauty

This morning a strange reflection in a rain spattered skylight caught my attention. I haven't decided if the image is beautiful, repulsive, or simply peculiar. It reminds me of a crying eye.A lamp below the skylight created this otherworldly reflection.

The dreariness of the weekend, the sheets of rain, the bleakness of shortened days are appropriate to my mood. I have been affected by tragic news stories and the gloom that hangs over the world. The joy of Christmas seems far away. Will evil always prevail?

Yesterday when I looked outside, I thought my garden was ugly but decided to go searching for beauty.

The winter sky was majestic but did not lift my spirits. I made myself take a photo of it.More images of the winter garden caught my attention, and I gave grudging appreciation to the fading glory of the old year.

Antique tones have their own quiet beauty, but I was relieved to find spots of color amidst the somber winter shades, whether it came from old leaves still holding their autumn hues or from the promise of a new bud, as see on the winter blooming Edgeworthia, below right.

Bright dogwood berries will provide a feast for birds through the coming winter months:A maidenhair fern draped over the edge of a tomato red pot:

Various types of foliage add interest to the winter garden:Clockwise from top left: Variegated Osmanthus; Variegated ivy; Snow-in-Summer asiatic jasmine; Maidenhair fern; Gold Dust Acuba; Another variegated ivy

A beautiful amethyst rock perches like a jewel on top of a patio table:

And ornamental cabbage grows more beautiful with every cold day:

So beauty is still out there, just as there is still goodness in the world. Evil will not prevail. Someday there will be peace on Earth, and there will be no more tears or satanic victories. That is the promise and truest meaning of Christmas.

My prayer is that each of you have that peace and hope in your own heart.  Deborah

An Ode to Raindrops

There is ancient history in a raindrop, if we could read it.

Where has the raindrop been? Was it ever part of a powerful storm that altered the land and destroyed the lives of men? Perhaps it once bounced along in a woodland stream where primitive people bathed their babies, washed their garments, and fished for their suppers. An important king may have quenched his thirst with the drop, or maybe it fell from a farmer's brow as he plowed the field. How many plants have reached their roots into the soil to seek out its life giving moisture? Does the drop still remember the pounding rhythms of the ocean? How long did it float in a cloud before returning to earth in my front yard?

August has been much drier than July, and I was happy this weekend when we had a real gullywasher, as local folks would say. Great torrents of water overwhelmed the gutters and came pouring off the eves of the house. We sang for joy. This means we don't have to pull heavy hoses over the yard for a few days, depending on the temperatures. It is still steamy in the Deep South, but September's relief is just around the corner. I went outside after the storm and waxed euphoric over the raindrops still clinging to the foliage:Mist lingers after a storm, seen in some random views of the yard: I hope you all have a great week, and may raindrops keep falling as you need them!  

Deborah