Pineapple Topper

Well since my computer been down I have spent more time out side than inside. Been working in the yard, taking photographs and on the weekend Mike and I been going for a motorcycle ride on Sunday. A group of us goes, I'll have to share some pictures of us all. But, for now I'm going to share you all my Pineapple Topper. I was just relaxing one evening started doodling which I turn into a Zentangle. At first I thought hm, that sorta looks like a hat. When I added the color the first thing that came into my mind was a pineapple. My husband saw it too, but, then Bertha my art teacher saw a hat ..giggle.. it is all in the eyes of the beholder how one interpreted art.


A Touch of Spring

Walking out in our lower paster with the dogs, I was admiring all these very tiny, I mean very tiny little yellow flowers. You know those that are very low to the ground. When looking at them it looks like the fields have a yellow carpet. Well that is how mine look at the time. I took my Coolpix P4 took a few photographs I was very please how these pictures came out on such a small camera. I do not know the name of these very small delicate flowers, they were so beautiful.



One morning and Mike and I were going over Hayfork Summit at dawn I kept looking at the sky. The clouds were going by towards the East I couldn't help notice the sun trying to peak through. Then as I look more to the East you could see where the clouds had not quiet reach that far you could see the redness from the sun on the valley floor. With the mountains looking dark the sky so alive it was just beautiful, just beautiful to behold.



Happiness is like a crystal,
Fair and exquisite and clear,
Broken in a million pieces,
Shattered, scattered far and near.
Now and then along life's pathway,
Lo! some shining fragments fall;
But there are so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.
You may find a bit of beauty,
Or an honest share of wealth,
While another just beside you
Gathers honor, love or health.
Vain to choose or grasp unduly,
Broken is the perfect ball,
And there  are so many pieces,
No one ever finds them all.
Yet the wise as on they journey
Treasure every fragment clear,
Fit them as they may together,
Imaging the shattered sphere,
Learning ever to be thankful,
Thought their share of it is small;
For it has so many pieces
No one ever finds them all.
Priscilla Leonard