How can a hole in a tree look endless?

The assignment was to paint with light. The result: A reminder of all that can happen in only a few moments… and how the result can be something unexpected.

(How was this made? A long exposure while shaking colored Christmas lights around. This is a lot of fun to do–and you can use any kind of light source! Flashlights, glow sticks…. The only limit is your own imagination!)

How often is something beautiful also prickly? Or perhaps, is it that prickly something that is also beautiful?

We don’t give enough credit to caves.

Their array or colors can rival a sunset, their formations put any mountain range to a test.

But they’re hidden. Underground. Out of sight, out of mind.

So, yes, we overlook. Literally.

It makes you wonder what else we overlook. What other works of art and beauty never receive our notice because something else is a bit brighter, a bit flashier.

It pays, I suppose to be observant. To look beyond, around… and, of course, under.

At first, I didn’t want to use this photo: You can see the edge of the car window and a bit of glare reflecting from the glass.

But then I thought: Why not share it? Yes it was clearly taken from a car while passing, but doesn’t that just prove that it was, truly, a moment in time? That I saw it and experienced it. That my family and I drove through the Rocky Mountains and marveled at the snow-capped peaks in the middle of June.

We worry about perfection so often. And I am no different. Wanting to do your best is admirable, but perhaps perfection isn’t. More often, hindsight shows us that the imperfections are what makes a memory, what makes a moment.

The favorite stories from life’s most precious events are rarely the ones when things went according to plan. The detour on a vacation, the unexpected problem at a wedding, the Christmas morning that was more hectic than magical…. These are the moments that give us inside jokes and little moments of love and understanding.

Who needs perfection? What we need are memories.

So here’s my imperfect photo: Framed by a car window and smudged with glares.

It’s one of my favorite memories.

The famous yellow springs for which the town in Ohio is named. Once believed to have healing properties. And maybe it does… I’m not one to discount the power of nature.

But maybe the healing came from the trek to find it. Even now it’s located well into a long hike.

Maybe the healing comes from leaving the world behind for a while, in walking beneath a canopy of trees, and in breathing the fresh air.

Never overlook the power of a walk in the woods.

Or, I suppose, the cool feel of fresh water from a yellow spring.

A rainbow over the mountains. I’d like to say more… but what else can I say that isn’t already captured in the moment of seeing a rainbow? There’s a childlike wonder that never disappears, now matter how much we age, whenever a rainbow appears in the sky.

We might grow older and more cynical. Maybe even more bitter.

But we always look up and smile when we see a rainbow.

Thank goodness for that.