![]() They don't fuss or get irritated as they 'graciously' make room for each other. They seem utterly indifferent whether anyone cares or not. They seem to celebrate being alive as they unself consciously display their radiance for whomever wishes to take note - or not. I appreciate the democratic spirit clusters of flowers have for themselves collectively and individually. As I focus upon the details of each unique flower, or fruit, or tree, or mixture of shadow and light, or glitter, or sparkles, I feel as connected to being alive and resonant with my natural 'friends' as at any time or with any people in my life. As I zoom in for closeups I sense these colorful mysteries speak to some elemental and most essential best prrt of me. I particularly enjoy the uniqueness of each flower as it unfolds sometime mid summer. I enjoy watching the buds ripening and opening up. Most of the flowers and yard photogaphs are a theme and variation from flowers and tomatos I plant each spring. It gives so much and asks for nothing in return. ![]() What I most love about nature is it is so natural. Perhaps all that can be done at such times is to try to remain steady and, if so inclined, to record such occurrences as objectively as is humanly possible. It was quite shaking to have to face up to the brutal fact that nothing is absolutely secure - life is tenuous at best. if indeed spotted, would hopefully notify them. ![]() What most stirred me were pictures of kin who were unaccounted for as yet, apparently posted by relatives and friends, desperately clinging to the hope that their loved ones had some escaped the horror and might be recognized by someone, anyone, who would take the time to carefully scan their names and faces and. On subequent days I came upon similar memorials, most notably a large one in Grand Central Station. Returning to Union Square I came upon a hastily erected evolving memorial. However, as bad as it was, I was also struck by the noble activity of hundreds - or was it thousands - of workers and volunteers that were quietly, and methodically attending to the grim work of cleaning up this horrible lower manhatten "Pearl Harbor" mess. I was struck by the nearly universal dazed and shocked expressions of a multitude of awe struck onlookers like myself. Many people were wearing face masks to help them breathe. The light had a strange brownish glow due to a mixture of the heavy particles of the disentegrated buildings filtering the winter sunlight. Somehow I found a way to get to within two blocks of the center of the destruction. Check points with soldiers and policemen were on every block. It was an eerie and surrealistic experience. On 09/12/01 I walked from 14th street and Union Square down to the hole in the ground that used to be the Twin Towers.
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