Wizened Petals

Gerry brought them home a week or so ago: loud, brash looking tulips.

I pulled out my camera, affixed my macro lens, and shot a few images—knowing I’d convert them to black and white in post processing. They were too much for the calm I hungered for.

Now they’re long past their prime and there’s a different beauty in their wizened petals. I see truth when I look at them and I leave them on the table for another day.

Thanks so much for stopping by. I'm here most mornings with a photo and a few words about ordinary extraordinary things and, sometimes, thin places where faith intersects.
  1. Beautiful!

  2. Years ago I wrote a poem about tulips that looked a lot like this.

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