Like everyone else, I sometimes worry about our world and our angry and divided country. I feel hopeful and refreshed when I get up each morning at the farm and bring my camera. I can’t help it. And I’m happy to share it. I am keenly aware of the pain and loss so many people are feeling, as well as the anger that has poisoned our civil world.  But my pictures speak for themselves: small things with significant meanings. Come along if you wish. I guarantee you will smile at least once, hold your breath at least once, and marvel at the beauty and wonder of the world. Life is shorter than we think; I’m not leaving it in a funk or a frown.

Above, Zinnia and Zip have become besties; they greet each other at the door every morning and remind me that friendship and connection are essential. My photography has taught me that beauty is everywhere if you only take the time to look.

When I woke up around 3 a.m., I saw that Maria was not in bed. I knew right away where she had gone. Last night, we had a full and beautiful moon—even the clouds couldn’t smother it. She was out walking with Fate and the sheep. She loves the natural world in a way that awes me. She said it was okay for me to post this beautiful picture. Midnight at Bedlam Farm.

I love watching our birds; they scream about life, grace, peace, and beauty.

Dead Rose. It’s often said (by me, too) that many flowers are more beautiful dead than most humans ever are alive. I keep that in mind as I get older.

St Jo in the cold.

Ed Gulley would be happy seeing the Tin Man holding fort in my garden bed. I love seeing him there, keeping an eye on things. Ed always told me he would be keeping an eye on me when he was gone, and damned if he isn’t doing it through the Tin Man.