Our world is changing, the sky is a painting filled with messages and feeling, violence and emotion. This sky is humbling, it reminds me how small I am, how insignificant.
“This Sky,
Every day we are flooded with rain, stifled by great heat and humidity, everybody is talking about the weather, wondering when it will end, crops are flooded, rivers are overflowing their banks, every evening around dusk the most beautiful, angry and explosive clouds roll in over the hills bearing thunder, lightning and heavy rain and wind. Every night I grab the camera, put a plastic bag over it, walk into the pasture or down the road for a view of the sky and this great and almost Biblical storm is waiting for me, heading for me. Dark clouds and silver linings.
Every night for the past few weeks, Mother Earth has sung a lullaby for me, sending a storm at the end of the day, painting an awful and beautiful portrait in the sky. I always feel she is speaking to me, sending me a message, singing a mournful but touching song. Across the road, I saw the storm approaching, I saw it moving to kiss the sun goodbye, and I ran out with my camera.
On a hot day, the back porch seems to be the place for chickens and cats. Flo continues her retirement and runs the porch from her throne on the green rocker. Minnie, who still hunts in the barns, keeps her company in the day light.
I spent some time crawling around in the Dahlia garden trying to take some photos today and I heard a rustling and then parted two of the bushes and looked down and there was Flo, keeping me company, keeping an eye on me.