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30 May 2015

Artist's Palette - Missoula, Montana

"Every artist dips his brush in his own soul..." - Henry Ward Beecher (1814-1887)

It seems to me that The Artist dipped into His great well of joy to get just the right hue for these reaching blooms.

29 May 2015

Life Song - Missoula, Montana

"A bird does not sing because it has an answer. 
It sings because it has a song." - Chinese Proverb

May you 'sing' what you were created to, and relax in the vibrant joy of simply being.

28 May 2015

Rockies Corralled By Grass - Near Anaconda, Montana


"Westward the Rockies jagged up as if they were the farthest rough edge of the world, but the other three directions flung themselves flat to grass, grass and grass." - Ivan Doig (1939-2015), 'This House of Sky', p. 204

27 May 2015

Full Bloom - Missoula, Montana

“The... branches are bowed under the weight of the flowers: blooming is hard, and the most important thing is - to bloom. “ - from “A Story About The Most Important Thing’ by  Yevgeny Zamyatin (1884-1937)

26 May 2015

GroundWater Rising - Near Victor, Montana

"The work an unknown good man has done is like a vein of water flowing hidden underground, secretly making the ground green." - Thomas Carlyle (1795-1881)

25 May 2015

Lilacs For Remembrance - Missoula, Montana

"When lilacs last in the door-yard bloom’d,  
And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,  
I mourn’d—and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring...

  
Comrades mine, and I in the midst, and 
their memory ever I
   keep—for the dead I loved so well;
For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands...and this for
   his dear sake;  
Lilac and star and bird, twined with the chant of my soul,  
There in the fragrant pines, and the cedars dusk and dim."


- from "When Lilacs Last In The Dooryard Bloomed" by Walt Whitman

24 May 2015

Domesticated Buttercup - Missoula, Montana

"The buttercups, bright-eyed and bold,
Held up their chalices of gold
To catch the sunshine and the dew..."
Julia C. R. Dorr (1825-1913), Centennial Poem, Line 165