Beauty in the Neighborhood

Flower in the Neighborhood 
I can be prone to complaining.  I would love to have the latest iPhone,  an iPad,  and the fastest internet unlimited data program.  I am a minimalist.  Everything I own can fit in the trunk of the car. Still. I would love to have more tech, paints, and brushes to play with.

I don't let the complaints or perceived lack stop me. I want to create and I have always worked with what I have.

Today. I needed to get out and walk. I have to. To keep my heart healthy.  I don't like exercise unless I am swimming in a saltwater pool or hiking at the coast or one of our many beautiful parks in Sonoma County.  I don't like gyms either unless you count the aromatherapy saunas and whirlpool.  Parks, coast, and fancy spa are not in the cards right now.

A walk around Suburbia is what I have to work with. It took everything I had to get my butt up and get moving. 

I took my cheap (let's be nice, inexpensive) cellphone with me to take photos. I gave myself an assignment in order to get moving. 

Take photos of the orange California poppies and the two large oaks in the field of wildflowers. 

I got moving.

On the way, dogs growled at me confined behind six foot fences, a man with an ash grey beard retrieved his mail from the box on the sidewalk cradling a silver tabby like a baby in his arms, a few blocks down-a blonde young woman stopped her honda in the middle of the road spotting a lost dog poster, I heard her speak to me or whoever witnessed her surprise.  "I found that dog. She has been missing for awhile", as she took a photo of the  picture of a small dog on the white paper clinging to a beat up telephone pole, ten feet away, a grandmother walked her toddler granddaughter near the bed of wild orange poppies, both curly haired with beautiful olive complexions matching each other.

And then I found the flower amongst the trail of small miracles. 

She looked up at me, her face to the sun. 

I took her picture with my cracked in pieces falling apart camera.

Her beauty shining through,  not letting the broken hide her light.

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