Posts tagged ‘summer’
Sometimes when I have the camera around my neck I feel like I see things in a way my Dad might, or at least I am hopeful that I will. The lines at the Northport Boatyard caught me eye and I had to grab a few shots. I know almost nothing about boating, but there is beauty in the mundane, no? Enjoy.
I overheard a couple of the boaters talking as I was grabbing a couple shots. “What is she taking pictures of, the lines?” Funny looks were exchanged. A chuckle. I felt a bit smug that I was enjoying a tiny bit of the beauty that they walk by fifty times a day. Sometimes it takes an outsider’s eye to draw our attention to what’s right in front of us.
May your day bring you beauty in the mundane day-to-day routine. Enjoy!
Don’t forget the beauty in the messes…
Don’t get me wrong here, lovelies. Fall (autumn?) is my very favorite time of year, but we’ve had a great summer here in northern Michigan so I’m saying good-bye this year with a heavier heart than usual. And another popsicle. Or maybe a few. “Hurry, it’s melting!” the little birdie loves to say.
We said bye-bye to summer last night with a warm sunset swim. It was a beautiful evening. The little birdie played on the big rocks with Papa while the full harvest moon rose over Old Mission Peninsula. The water was crisp and clear. With heavy hearts we dragged ourselves home, which involved a certain toddler flailing on the ground for a bit. If I didn’t have such a hard time getting off the ground right now, I might have done the same thing. We prolonged summer a bit more with a candlelight “smudge” (s’more) on the front porch. Thank you, summer!
It’s been a long week and I’m ready for a long weekend with my family. Enjoy the remains of summer, lovelies. XO
Happy September, lovelies!
It really IS still summer and I know this because the ice cream truck is still frequenting our neighborhood right around dinner time. Evil, I tell you! And the little birdie has quite the ear for the ice cream truck soooo, yeah, dinner started out with a green apple-flavored Shrek popsicle last night. Before you go judging my parenting abilities, remember that we’re soaking up the remains of summer here. We’re on a mission, people! Truth be told, I get about as excited as Wren does when I hear the ice cream truck. Partly it’s the thrill of the hunt. We hear it, but can’t quite determine where the awful music is coming from so we begin our frantic, bare-footed search in its general direction. And then we catch a glimpse of it: There it is, I see the ice cream truck!!!, she shouts. We start running toward it, waving our arms and licking our lips, forgetting that the half-melted pops are ridiculously expensive. It doesn’t seem to matter in those jubilant moments. We stand around for a minute or two, letting the popsicle drip down our hands and onto our toes. Quiet except for the sound of the ice cream truck moving on to the next block. Priceless.