As we glide on the rest of the way home. I am going to keep the calm and secure look of this little fellow.
There are lots of reflections on our road today, but they are more those caused by the ice. And Texans were not meant to drive in the ice, nor the snow. As my daddy told me “if God wanted Texans to ski, he would have made bull$@@! white.”
Be safe,be calm,be secure….en theos†††jim
Growing up in West Tx, fall has always seemed such a blink. Here then gone before you even take notice. One of the advantages of growing older seems to be the pause that now comes with autumn. The colors are so warm, so pleasing. It is like God is giving us an appetizer of color to prepare us for the browning and gray coming of winter. Such a warming reflection from yellows and oranges. Memories of past are triggered and last just a bit longer. It seems the one season of time that all slows down in a life that moves past too fast.
“Autumn. It’s crispness, it’s anticipation, it’s melancholia, it’s cool breezes replacing summer’s heat. It’s long days in the field, a harvest festival when work’s done, a cheering crowd in a football stadium, chrysanthemums punctuating a somber landscape. It’s Halloween highjinx, pumpkins grinning toothy smiles, the crack of pecan pressed against pecan. It’s the first curls of woodsmoke, fresh blisters from pushing a rake. It’s crisp and fresh and mellow and snug, solemn and melancholy. And it’s very, very welcome.”
― Good Housekeeping Magazine
Pause to enjoy both the warmth of a color and the remembrance of a warm reflection. ††† en theos ††† jimwork
I was scouting a locale for our local Cross Country team when I came across a tank filled with water this afternoon. I don’t get a lot of water images out in west TX, and this one took my breath away.
George Harrison’s mournful lyrics from “All things must pass” rebounded off the water and into the sky. Good & bad, it all does pass.
“Sunrise doesn’t last all morning
A cloudburst doesn’t last all day
Seems my love is up and has left you with no warning
It’s not always going to be this grey
All things must pass
All things must pass away
Sunset doesn’t last all evening
A mind can blow those clouds away
After all this, my love is up and must be leaving
It’s not always going to be this grey
All things must pass
All things must pass away
All things must pass
None of life’s strings can last
So, I must be on my way
And face another day
Now the darkness only stays the night-time
In the morning it will fade away
Daylight is good at arriving at the right time
It’s not always going to be this grey
All things must pass
All things must pass away
All things must pass
All things must pass away”….George Harrison, the quiet one.
It all does pass while on your journey, enjoy it or shed tears while it’s still fresh††††††nada te turbe†††††††††††jim
“It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog”. Mark Twain
Ah, that is so true. I will generally talk to and pet a pit bull in the back of a pickup long before I will approach a poodle in a Toyota.
What size is the fight in you on your journey?†††††††nada te turbe††††jim
HEY IT’S NOT EASY BEING GREEN OR WAS JEREMIAH A BULLFROG OR DID WE JUST GO A COURTIN’ AH-HAW AH-HAW ?????????Thought it only fitting to follow a “Horned Frog” with a real frog. I believe this is a bullfrog, but not well versed in amphibian aliases, so croak out if I am wrong!Frogs are a tough stalk and like others things in life, I found this one while looking for for something else……..it just came a float’n by.Be prepared for whatever comes a floating by on your journey††††nada te turbe†††††jim
HEY IT’S NOT EASY BEING GREEN OR WAS JEREMIAH A BULLFROG OR DID WE JUST GO A COURTIN’ AH-HAW AH-HAW ?????????
Thought it only fitting to follow a “Horned Frog” with a real frog. I believe this is a bullfrog, but not well versed in amphibian aliases, so croak out if I am wrong!
Frogs are a tough stalk and like others things in life, I found this one while looking for for something else……..it just came a float’n by.
Be prepared for whatever comes a floating by on your journey††††nada te turbe†††††jim
Dusk time on the Rio Grande in T or C
The Rio Bravo, just a shadow of it’s previous flow, but still stately in places. Although not as blue as the sky reflecting off the surface, it was filled with life, carp surfacing, Red Wing Black birds, Barn Swallows, and Neoropic Cormorants all dancing and skimming across the surface. A brown lab chasing a tennis ball time and again for the joy of self,master, and me. A truly peaceful time held in by reflections of life, past and the river and sky. It feels like you could drift with this for hours.
Reflect on what is and yet to be on your journey†††nada te turbe††††††††jim
“Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.” 1 Corinthians 13:12Sometimes things are not as they appear, we must learn to see the light and find focus.Look at your reflections on your journey and change what you don’t like†††nada te turbe†††jim
“Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.” 1 Corinthians 13:12
Sometimes things are not as they appear, we must learn to see the light and find focus.
Look at your reflections on your journey and change what you don’t like†††nada te turbe†††jim
It is lying all around me,
Shattered into useless pieces of glass
That could now rip my unprotected feet.
It was the glass castle in which I lived
As fairy princess and heroine in shining armor,
Ready and able to rescue all in need.
It was my fragile fantasy,
Designed to protect me from the searing pain
Of having never been rescued
From my own unspeakable distress.
But an invited guest came
And rammed my castle doors, besieged my walls
And shattered my glass defense.
And so, what I once thought of as my castle grand
Is now nothing more than unrecognizable jagged pieces,
And here I stand, exposed and stunned.
It is mine now, not to gather,
But to leave these shattered remains.
It is mine to find a way to live without this illusion.
It is mine to learn to be the peasant child that I am,
Bereft of shining armor and magic wand.
But all I can see at this moment
Are the broken pieces of my shattered castle walls,
And all I can do is weep.
author unknown
Keep an eye on your reflection on your journey†nada te turbe††jim
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Freelance Writer • Columnist• Blogger at Unwanting
Photographers living with or affected by mental health challenges; supporting each other one photograph at a time.
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Shades of Gray - Denison TX 