Ice Cream Parlor

Ice Cream Parlor

https://grannysglasses.com/?p=qebzuvav Ice Cream Parlor ©2012 Bo Mackison

https://photovisions.ca/dttosm7yk The first time I ever visited this ice cream parlor, I was newly married and Sherpa was giving me a highlight tour of Oak Park, Illinois. We were ready to leave the crowds of Lincoln Park for a little yard and a lot more quiet and our very own garage space, and Oak Park was one of our choices.

https://www.jacobysaustin.com/2024/05/rly6a0qy On my very first visit all those years ago, we both ordered apple pie with cinnamon ice cream. Oh, deliciousness! Once we moved to the area, we treated ourselves to pie ala mode at the beginning of every month. (My pay day.) No matter how stringent our student budget was, it couldn’t make us give up our monthly ice cream fix — though we’d have preferred a daily dose!

https://discovershareinspire.com/2024/05/8k75t1b Recently we drove through Oak Park to see how the quarter of a house we had rented for a year was faring. It looked great. Then we drove past the ice cream parlor. It was no longer a restaurant, just a narrow shop with ice cream goodies on one side and a few tables and chairs on the other. It was nice to see the wall of old ribbons Petersen’s Ice Cream had won at over many years of State Fair participation. And the ice cream was as yummy as ever. No apple pie, though!

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Buy Quality Valium Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.

Walking with the Trees

Bare Branches

go to site Bare Branches ©2012 Bo Mackison

https://domainebregeon.com/r7q4nboe “Today I have grown taller from walking with the trees.”
–   Karle Wilson Baker

https://templedavid.org/symons/nn3a3gyvc0o I think if I ever decided to limit myself to only a few subjects to photograph, I would choose first the tree.

source link When I photograph a tree, I capture the structure of the tree, and its beauty, its strength. But it seems the tree portraits become self-portraits in a sense, as they often capture my mood and state of being, too.

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Buy Cheap Xanax Pills Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. During this month of endings and beginnings, of many journeys and quite a bit of upheaval, I will be posting iPhonography.

Fruits of November

Orange Fruit, Crabapple Tree

https://someawesomeminecraft.com/2024/05/13/ezzn837 Fruits of Autumn ©2012 Bo Mackison

https://restoreredspruce.org/2024/05/13/z6kkwhda1 Crab apple blossoms are a favorite, but the fruit of the crabapple is largely ignored. Even the winter birds wait until little else is available before choosing crabapples for their breakfast.

https://pkuatm.org/2024/05/13/2qy45ts But these bright orange crab apples, framed in a purple-saturated sky – I love this combination of colors, and I love the composition of branches and fruits, solid and yet airy.

Space for breathing deeply, roots for grounding deeply.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. In this month of many ending and as many beginnings, many journeys and many hours spent on the road, I will be posting a daily iPhone photo processed with the Snapseed application.

Endings and Beginnings

End of the Season

End of the Season ©2012 Bo Mackison

Life is not so much about beginnings and endings as it is about going on and on and on. It is about muddling through the middle.  ~ Anna Quindlen

Life is about muddling through the middle. November is about endings and beginnings. The ending of autumn’s high season and the beginning of autumn’s low season.

Autumn, three months long, loses much of its easily seen glory after the first month. Autumn conjures scenes of flaming trees, crisp fall mornings which glide into warm sunny days, apple picking, pumpkin patching, harvest gathering. That is high season autumn, autumn in its glory.

Then the low season of autumn arrives. The generosity of the year’s gardens dwindles. Anything worth saving from the coming cold is saved.

The first hard frost crisps the hardiest plants, the cold holds them in icy suspension for a few hours, and their leaves droop, as if in a state of exhaustion. Plants crinkle, dry out.

The planters are emptied, plants pulled from their summer containers and dropped on the compost pile; gardens are trimmed – a few perennials are cut short and banked with mulch in preparation for the soon to fly snow. The taller ones, their seed heads dried and bountiful, remain standing, crowded one upon another for support.

For now, the garden is quiet, an empty space. Wait until autumn is in her last days. The seed heads of the cone flowers and sunflowers will be the birds’ favorite in late December when other feeders are empty and the ground is hidden in drifts of snow.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. In this month of many ending and as many beginnings, I will post iPhonography processed with the Snapseed application.

 

Adventure in an Antique Mode

Hot Air Balloon

Adventure in an Antique Mode ©2012 Bo Mackison

Like a shamanistic language, flight speaks in different idioms. We can blast rockets to the stars. We can race across the sky on fixed wings. Ballooning appeals because it is more languorous and low-tech; it’s Buy Real Xanax Online Cheap adventure in an antique mood. What a treat to stroll through the veils of twilight, to float across the sky like a slowly forming thought. Flying an airplane, one usually travels the shortest distance between two points. Balloonists can dawdle, lollygag, cast their fate to the wind and become part of the ebb and flow of nature, part of the sky itself, held aloft like any bird, leaf or spore. In that silent realm, far from the mischief and toil of society, all one hears is the urgent breathing of the wind and, now and then, an inspiring gasp of hot air.  ~ Diane Ackerman, ‘Traveling Light,’  New York Times, 11 January 1997.

There are so many phrases in this quote by Diane Ackerman. I want to just pick them out of their sentences and fling them about, see if, perhaps, they will soar as they have my mind soaring.

“stroll through the veils of twilight” – rather like the slowing down part of the day, the time when you sit in the comfy chair near the fireplace and rest your head on its high back, and close your eyes so that you can take a short mind-travel of the day’s events.

“float…like a slowly forming thought” – I have more and more of those. The kinds of thoughts that if I hurry along, force out into the open, well, they are lost forever. I need to nudge those thoughts forward a bit, those thoughts that linger on the edge of consciousness, and then I let them rest awhile. I pretend I am only vaguely interested, and move on to a project that is more busyness than business. More often than not, that elusive thought gradually moves closer, until it is close enough that I can see more than just the edges. I capture a glimpse of the idea. The glimpse is enough. A little more time and the glimpse becomes the thought I once wanted to capture. It has come to me of its own accord.

“become part of the ebb and flow of nature” – well, yes. That is often my intent. I am happiest trekking through the wilder lands than walking along a paved sidewalk or doing business in a building where I feel cut off from the natural world. But the next part speaks even more loudly to me.

“become…part of the sky itself, held aloft” – What would that feel like? The experience of flying, of soaring, or circling the earth below, all the world held at a distance while I took enough time to gather my thoughts. And being held aloft? On what? Gentle air currents, pockets of weightlessness, invisible threads held by unseen angels. Oh, sometimes it is fun to let my mind just take off, and I follow along to see where it will take me.

“far from the mischief and toil of society” – Yes, some days I do dream of escape, of tucking a heap of insulation around me and resting, far from the mischief and from society’s expectations. At one time in my life, I was a phenomenal mind-escape artist. I’ve learned it’s more advantageous, more acceptable too, to take only a bit of a time out – perhaps a walk around the pond – not a long escape, but I still find myself dreaming of the quiet.

“all one hears is the urgent breathing of the wind” – Yes, in the sky, I would expect to hear the urgent breathing of the wind. Here, land-bound, I seem to hear the urgent breathing of the earth. How does one calm the earth’s breathing, soothe its shuddering inhalations and exhalations? How does one help the earth slow its breathing, how does one touch the earth?

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.Occasionally, she veers off course and takes a look at the world through a somewhat poetic view.

This is my October Photo-Heart Connection contribution. When a photo (and the accompanying quote) move me to consider my place in the universe, it is a truly heart connection combination.