If I had to look back through all the photos I’ve taken this year, it would take hours, so I’ve chosen to present four of my favorites from this month. Help me decide which one to cut, please. This prompt limits me to three. I’m decisioned out so I’m relying on you to help me pick the best three.
I love this photo for the tender emotions it reveals.
I love this photo for what it represents to me. Freedom and rising above the problems of the world.
I love the painterly quality of this photo.
I love this photo because it represents a surreal view of a favorite scene I face every day.
The radiant moon invites me to meander to the pool. To miss its cloud-scrimmed drama would reveal me as a fool. Its flickering light reflected in the pool’s steaming glass, I part its even surface asunder as I pass.
Clothed in liquid light, I walk a smooth straight line, reflectively immersed in this world that is all mine. I have no other idol except this ghost of moon. I feel that I could taste it if I only had a spoon.
Its taste would be ambrosial upon my earthly tongue— the first to taste a lunar menu formerly unsung. I bundle up my prayers and toss them overhead, leaving all my worries unthought of and unsaid.
The stone steps lead me up again from its steaming mass and I shed off moonlight around me as I pass. I take its memory with me as I return to bed, the splendor of the moonlight forever in my head.
Today’s prompt words are: reflective radiant immersed meander idol line taste drama ghost flickering stone. The photos I took two weeks ago before leaving my house to travel to the states for my school reunion. A glorious scene. One of the shots is the moon and trees reflected in the surface of my pool that is fed by hot mineral springs that pass through the magma layer fed by the Colima Volcano, 80 miles away. I swim in it almost nightly.
After a huge thunderstorm, the rain stopped and I went out to take an after-midnight swim. Luckily, I’d taken my iPhone out to listen to a book as I did my water exercises, and used it to try to capture a photo of a rare firefly that clung to the branch of an Areca palm hanging out over the water. I couldn’t capture it, but luckily it did make me notice an incredible moon and cloud tableau over my neighbor’s house that is pictured in the gallery below. This is the scene: mist surrounding and rising up into the night-chilled air from the hot water of my geothermally heated pool, clouds swirling around the moon. Click on the individual photos below to enlarge them.
At times you were the problem and at other times the buttress.
At times my lost direction and at other times my compass.
You were my kindred spirit, my teacher and my lover,
and when you went away, I felt that I could not recover.
I saw your face in everything—in rivers and in clouds.
A dozen times, your profile. Your retreating back in crowds.
Love dies but does not vanish. It has a thousand faces
seen at the least likely times in unexpected places.
Facts we can’t face up to in our mutual lives
swarm around in memory in buzzing swarming hives.
Facts as sweet as honey. Facts that sting like bees.
Niggling facts that seize the mind to torture or to tease.
It is a constant truth with love that one will first depart—
an act that seems so far away when love is at its start.
But the truth is always looming. Death will end what we’ve begun.
That inevitable setting of the brightest glowing sun.