my pieris japonica shrubs. the little blossoms are so amazing; they look like strings of tiny pearls.
the grapevines weaving themselves around the yard, with their perfect spiraled tendrils. i love how climbing vines cling.
these gorgeous orchids given to me on my birthday- by those who know the quickest way to the core of my heart.
watching the mud holes in the marsh out back. if you wait silently, for long enough, you might catch a glimpse of the inhabitants- tiny fiddler crabs seeking respite from the hungry herons.
the moss and lichens spreading across our bulkhead.
the explosions of forsythia. quiet spring fireworks.
carpets of petals all about. when the wind picks them up, it is pure heaven.
All of these things I am loving lately are dying to become paintings. The colors, the lines, textures, patterns, spaces, and voids... But I am just so dang tired lately. I really loved being pregnant the last time (once the morning sickness ended), but this pregnancy is really knocking the wind out of me. They (medical journals) say that a pregnant body is working harder while resting than a nonpregnant body is when mountain-climbing. I imagine I am reaching the summit, right about now. I know how hard and why my body is working as it is, and this brings me peace. I know it will be easier sometime during the fourth month... soon, soon, soon... For now I'll just keep trying to formulate those paintings in my mind.
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