SOTC 358/365*

*omg, you guys, only a "week" left in this project! It's taken years!

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Probably my cutest SOTC photo to date!

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Deep Breath and Stretch of Morning

This never. gets. old.

I have a picture of the tulips breaking through the earth for every year I've lived in this house. They rise up along the whole length of the driveway, and the delight never ceases when I spot them that first time each March.

And when I rake the leaves clear, it's like throwing back blankets and taking that big deep breath and stretch of morning.

They're a reminder of life.

Of hope.

Of resilience.

A reminder that we can endure the cold and the dark seasons. That we are not meant to bloom all year 'round. That sometimes we must rest--lie still and wait, conserve our energy, focus inward.

But trusting implicitly that Light returns; always returns. And when it does, then we explode forth our bright colours; unafraid and dazzling.

SOTC 195/365

"Peace. It does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. It means to be in the midst of those things and still be calm in your heart." - Unknown

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A bit of tropical reprieve on a cold winter day in Edmonton.

Lillies Spilling, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank.

SOTC 117/365

Fall Florals, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank

Sunset in a Flower (SOTC 113/365)

Sunset in a Flower, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank.

SOTC 112/365

Slender Buds of Green, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank.

SOTC 109/365

You Almost Can't Tell He's Eating, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank.

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"A flower's appeal is in its contradictions — so delicate in form yet strong in fragrance, so small in size yet big in beauty, so short in life yet long on effect."

-- Terri Guillemets

SOTC 97/365

Pretty Little Trio, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank

Cameras Don't Bounce

It was in my hands; then it was on the ground.

I couldn't even tell you exactly what happened, it was so quick. I had removed it from around my shoulders so that I could get a low-down shot of a pink-and-yellow tulip I particularly admired (a shot that never worked out, by the way). When I stood up--maybe I stepped on the edge of the dangling strap. Maybe someone else did. Maybe I bumped into something.

The next thing that registers in my brain is the simultaneous whack of camera against concrete, and the crunch of breaking glass. There is a split-second where a few people in the immediate area turn towards the noise, and join my friend and I as we, quite audibly, gasp. In the next split-second, the crowd has assessed the irrelevance of the event to their own lives, and has turned its attention back to previous affairs, while I have scooped the camera up off the ground and am moving to a less crowded area so I can assess the damage.

I turn the camera off and on; it still works. Miraculously--I don't remember doing this--the live-view screen has been folded inwards, so it is completely intact. I gently shake the camera back and forth. It seems there are no rattling pieces inside; a good sign.*

I inspect my 18-135mm IS lens. Certainly not my most expensive, but not my cheapest either. And currently my favourite. The UV filter I place on all my lenses to protect them is completely broken. I carefully remove the few broken bits of glass from around the edges. The metal ring that screws into the lens itself is bent, and therefore jammed. I cannot pry it off the lens, nor can I attach anything to it (other filters, the lens cap). The plastic rim of the lens is chipped in a couple small places. But as I twist the lens to zoom in, out, and take a couple test shots, it looks as if that may be the worst of it.

My camera works. The lens works. Neither are broken (nor likely even compromised, what with a little work once I get home to pry the ring off the lens).

"Oh, my God, thank You!" I literally shout towards the sky.

Suddenly, I am in awe of much more than the tulips I came for in the first place.

* that being said, some tiny part rattled around inside my old dSLR for years without compromising its function.

SOTC 92/365

Daisy Garden I, a photo on Flickr by Gina Blank