Sherry Chandler

What a difference a day makes

Here is the patch of trout lilies at about 6:30 last night:

All this spate of photography posting reminds me that I’ve been meaning to tell you, gentle readers, that I think I’ve got all my graphics back up on the blog posts. I apologize for the length of time it has taken me, especially to those of you who shared photographs with me that I was slow in getting back up. It is difficult to go back and re-create. Life and the creative impulse don’t wait for you to catch up.

Also, the graphics turned out to be scattered all over the place. Some I never could find again. I’ve taken steps to prevent that from happening again (the new WordPress software helps). Though, I must say, I thought I was being very organized from the beginning. Maybe I should be consoled by the discovery that I was not. Creative people are not usually hyper-organized.

If, by chance, you find a post that still has a missing graphic, please let me know. I am especially concerned about some photos that we posted to the comments.

Meanwhile, here’s another shot that I’m sharing just because I sort of like it. It’s the burgeoning dogwood in the foreground, the Virginia bluebells in the middle distance, and of course our good old faithful daffodils in the focus.

Oh, that dark mass to the right is the perpetually dying redbud with, I just noticed, a ladder propped up in it. Oh well, adds an extra dynamic and a little post-industrial discord to this sylvan scene.

Possibly related posts:

Viceroy, I think

A glimpse of the oriole

Dogwood, no berries

This makes me want to cry

What makes a good anti-war poem?

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