I decided to take the Leica Monochrome to the garden today and give it a chance to tell its story.

Black and white photographs can capture the soul of things well, and I was looking for that today. Fall is in the air, and many of my flowers have begun to die. I have about a month left to keep my flower photos coming, and I’ll be working on them until the end.

But enough of my flowers are dying that I wanted to capture the feeling of it; flowers die beautifully, even as they live beautifully.

So this exercise in glory and death is for them. And for my Monochrome, which is incomparable when it comes to souls.

We are planning a quiet, restful weekend. We plan to do a lot of resting, perhaps order some takeout foot, and sit outside if it’s not too hot. I have four good books to read and am eager to get into them.

I’ll blog, as usual, but perhaps not as often. I’ll see how it goes. We are in a good groove, working, resting, working, resting. Every time we rest, we get a little stronger.

The thing I most love about the Leicas is their softness, a contrast to digital clarity and literalness. They work very well together.

This one caught my eye, leaning forward into the winds. It spoke to me me, it seemed to be saying something.

Maria and I continue to improve slowly. I am getting stronger, and the congestion is slowly leaving my head. I have no sore throat and still no sense of taste.

Half of my flowers are still going strong; half are beginning to fade. I have some weeks to go, but I can see the end soon of my beautiful garden bed. What a happy experiment for me; it will not be an integral part of my life, art, or spiritual work.

Flowers die well.

I’m worn out from today; I did a lot of work. Time to sign off and go to bed. Thanks for coming along for the ride.