A Holy Hue

Maybe not for everyone else, but for me this vermillion shade is holy. 

Coming across it in nature is a communion of sorts with my Mom.

My sweet OA had always noticed it everywhere -- these berries, cardinals, flowers -- It was a pigment she well employed in her art, and utilized in self expression with the wisp of a scarf, or upon her painted lips.

When the brilliant cardinals emerge from these pyracantha bushes, I know that she's here.

Miracle

The water pulls me back in . . .

Embraced by the soft quiet, the energy here is palpable.  Angst begins to fall away --insignificant now.

I breathe again.

"Crop Circles" on the Rug

It's shedding season.  One day after vacuuming, this furry "crop circle" tells a tale.  I can just imagine my sweet Ellie scratching while slowly spinning on the spot.  When I was younger I may have focused only on the need to clean it up.  Today, it makes me smile.

The proud artist!

The Actual OA

Remembering this wonderful Angel, every day, but more this time of year, I still feel so sorry for anyone who didn't have the chance to meet her.  She cared about everyone she came across.  She sought and found good in the flawed, the abandoned, the misunderstood.  She stopped everything to listen to a stranger's tale.  She accorded each person the dignity they deserve.  There's no greater inspiration, and I was so lucky to be her daughter. Her light was brilliant, deep and warm.

As I look for light in the world, I'm looking for her.