“What’s she doing, mommy?”
The little boy nudges his mother, who is navigating a grassy park. The rubber wheels of the stroller she pushes whoosh through leaves leached into shades of mustard and tan.
The boy peeks around his mother at me and at the ground beneath my feet.
I’m an oddity here.
At a preschooler’s eye level, brilliant vermillion fall flowers still hold ballet poses against a seamless blue sky.
I am fixated on “gorgeous ruin,” like that on the pathway where poet Carol Ann Duffy’s child-self trailed her dead father.
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Author: Stephanie
In her spare time, Stephanie works full-time, and then some, as an attorney. She has published articles and delivered talks in arcane fields like forensic evidentiary issues, jury instructions, and expert scientific witness preparation. She attended law school on the banks lso is an adjunct professor at a law school near the banks of the Charles River and loves that dirty water, as she will always think of Boston as her home.
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Love in the Spaces 
Celebrating muertos, the dancing partner of vida, of course. Well done and pictured!
I have started to look at the sky, thanks to your posts and photos. I just learned in my class that there is a school of meditation called “Sky Gazing.” My meditation teacher said that, when you look at the sky and see clouds, you know that behind them is the fully sky, the universe. Rotting plants have their own beauty, but also some sadness.
Beautiful, Stephanie. Simply beautiful, both pictures and words.