Butterfly Ball...

End of the month, and this project has certainly not taken flight yet! Having being grounded for the last few months, I now hope that these butterflies will soon be up, dancing in the slightest breeze and glinting in the sunlight...

Precious Beasts...

The unique attachment that binds us to our pets is often qualified as a sad, soppy anthropomorphic mess of misplaced affection by those who have never felt such a bond. How to explain the ties of love for a supposedly lesser being – a ‘mere’ animal - when all should revolve around the superior species ; mankind ? Such feelings almost need apologetic justification, having somehow deprived our human relationships of their due quota of respect and concern. Anything that detracts from human occupations and preoccupations is an affront to our status, and that which draws attention away from our position on centre stage should be frowned upon. How to describe the sentiments involved in this curious proximity with creature companions, feelings so simple yet oddly complex? These are frequently brushed aside as inferior emotions ; inappropriate and distasteful. No animal could surely be worthy of such consideration and care and to believe so is wrong… Affection for or from an animal is duly dismissed as irrelevant and irreverent when compared to the superior relations man entertains with his fellow beings. And yet here is a loving tie unlike any other, all the purer for the fact that it indeed concerns a simple being, affectionate but never affected, sociable but not seeking social validation, hedonistic but not excessive or self-destructive. Animal simplicity somehow makes us more human and whole and when that cruel moment of separation comes, as surely it must, we feel bereft, overwhelmed by a loss that cannot be expressed. We must bear the pain and sadness within, instinctively knowing that any voiced emotion risks belittlement or reasoning into silence. « It was just an animal… » . Animal? Yes. 'Just'? Never...

A Little Purple in Paris...

On a beautiful sunny day last week, I wandered around a few of my favorite spots in Paris, but in fact just meandering around the old streets is magical enough in itself, without any specific direction or aim.

For a Monday morning it was surprisingly quiet and calm, making it possible to saunter along the pavements and through parks without jostling tourists and Parisians.

The pale lilac of the towering jacaranda trees in bloom was repeated in the flowering wisteria, their vines draped across the buildings, entwining their long stems around the features of the façades...

Along the Seine the irises stood proud and bold, yet their furled petals were soft and delicate...

Amongst the stunning seasonal displays in Le Jardin des Plantes, were the lavatera with their hibiscus trumpets attracting the springtime pollinators.

All set against the majestic Musée National d'Histoire Naturelle...

Meanwhile, the gentle heads of the aquilegia flowers bent down in a quiet reflective manner...

Far away from their more typical meadowland environment, they nevertheless appeared well adapted to their city life, discreetly gracing the undergrowth...

But of course, even the most ordinary weed has its own unique beauty and grace once you take the time to observe it, wherever it is growing, whatever the city.