multitude monday-misty watercolor memories

I so loved the effects of the watercolor device on the photo editing program that I use that I decided it was one of my blessings to give thanks for this week.

Because of that, all the photos depicting the things that I am grateful for will be altered in some way by the editing program, most of them by the watercolor feature.

Marianne's bayou
For beautiful sunsets over water--I literally cannot get enough of them.
My good friend, Marianne, took this picture. They live in Louisiana and
have a bayou in their backyard.
Sunlight filtering through the trees again. smile--well, through clouds mostly, I guess.

welcome home

For small roads with no telephone poles and no billboard signs.
This is a photo I took near Welcome Home, Arkansas. Don't you just love that name. The story goes that they cannot keep the highway sign announcing the name of the small community because someone steals it every time they put up a new one.

Marilyn and I
For lifelong bff's, no matter how far apart your paths take you.
My best friend, Marilyn, and I when we were 16 years old. She is on the left.
I won't even say how many years ago this was taken.

Monda and Jane

For barefoot sunset walks with friends and colleagues along California beaches in January.
This photo was taken on a school trip several years ago. It was cold and we were carrying lots of junk but it was worth it. This is in Carmel.

singing with students

One of my favorite watercolor memories: Some of my former 5th grade students
This is an picture of my students and me singing Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer at a school Christmas program.


So, so thankful for these precious granddaughters and for all of them.
This is three of six of my granddaughters. I love this picture because I think it looks like it was taken 50 years ago.


Lastly, one of my favorite memories in the whole world--rain pelting down on a tin roof.
We ate in a restaurant the other night that was decorated with tin walls and old pictures. It reminded me of the days of living in a small, primitive tinned-roof house with my mom, dad, older brother and younger sister.
Guess some of the memories are like the rain that drips down the narrow valleys of rust and metal, not stopping by for a long visit, just rolling by to let us know they are still in the vicinity. Some of those droplets begged to be heard, to be revisited; some pound on the door of our hearts with the deliberate intention of waking us from a sound sleep, of forcing us to deal with them and the ruts they create coming so forcefully off the roof with no gutter to stop them from their downward descent.
And then there are those that slowly and quietly slip off the roof splashing ever so softly into rain barrels collecting there to be used at a later moment for quenching the nostalgia of our hearts. It is those that I am dwelling on today. Thank you Lord for quiet times to reflect on layers of misty watercolor memories that encircle us like a rainbow.

So thankful for misty, watercolor memories


Blessings #31-38

posted in community with

holy experience