That I obsess over flowers?
That the blues of the sky intrigue me?
That sunflowers make me think of happy faces and smiles?
Is it a shock to learn I find all the stages of flowers endlessly fascinating?
That shadows playing across the face of the flowers make me play with the light
and where I stand in relation to what I'm photographing to see what I can capture?
Does it seem like a perseveration, the desire to capture the red of the roses
amongst the yellow, green and browns of the sunflowers and the blue and white of the sky?
That I find these shots of flowers against the cloudy sky a triumphant, primal crow of joy?
Does it surprise you that if I could hug flowers I would?
And see, I am hugged back!
The grasshopper advised distance, though.
Would it seem obvious to you that here, in these flowers, I can almost see god's hand?
And feel his love and warmth, if I were so inclined to fancy such a thing?
The grasshopper advises skepticism.
But the flowers recommend singing in joy at creation.
And can't you hear the hallelujahs?
Or, perhaps, not that, perhaps you hear Bach's violin concertos, instead?
(and indeed you do, if you hit play on the video first!)
Can you not feel your heart lift? Your burdens ease at such incomparable beauty?
Do you not feel a soaring in your soul?
Life finds a way, abhors a vacuum.
And the broad blue sky reminds us that we are without limits to our hopes and dreams.
Nature, in all its faces, offers the chance to be in awe at our mere existence,
that we can move through such beauty, play a small role here in this place and this time.
We can choose to rise.
We can choose to soar.
We can lift up our faces in praise.
We can express our joy at being alive.
We can remain glorious in the hopeful expectation of what comes next.
And know that in our solitary moments, we are not alone.
We are one of many.
And together we can create wonderful things.