I’m not the only one at my house that likes to watch the goldfinches. Good thing there is a door between.

But wait…

There is one last obligation in the circle of life–to tempt the creatures of the neighborhood with those tasty seeds in an effort to spread the gene pool. Success! Here are two visitors: a goldfinch crunching seeds in situ and a squirrel who prefers to nip the flowers from the stalk and escape to a distant post to consume the booty.

–Marshall B. Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication:  A Language of Life, 2nd ed.

This was in a series of these large sculptures low to the ground…here are the others…

…no idea what inspired them, but they are cool, aren’t they?

This is a Google Map of the home of Jacques Lacan, the famous French psychoanalyst. We stumbled upon this address when we were in Paris back in 2002 and were dumbfounded to see the plaque since husband was a big fan. He asked me this morning if we had a picture of the plaque and I thought I took a photo but despite many minutes of pawing around in boxes and photo album couldn’t put my hand on it. So, I tried Googling “Lacan plaque Paris”. The first link was on Wikimedia which showed the plaque (out of context) and the address; I then put the address into Google Maps…et voilà!! You can see where it is on the street, can zoom in to read the plaque, then continue walking down to where we stopped for coffee at a café. Hmmm, that’s the place I learned never to request a large coffee…it came in a cup the size of a mixing bowl! I’m betting the waiter is still laughing about l’americaine…

Oh, you are asking why husband was wondering if we took a photo, it was for a blog post he was writing. An hour later, here I am…but I learned something new so it was all worth it!

Breathing in, I see myself as a flower. Breathing out, I feel fresh. During the time of breathing in you have to see yourself as a flower. We human beings, we are a variety of flower in the garden of humanity. Everyone of us, whether we are a gentleman or a lady. Every one of us has our flowerness that makes us beautiful, fresh, and pleasant.
—-Thich Nhat Hanh, on facebook 15 August 2010

When I descended to the camp, I found a row of other spectators facing not to the east and the newly dawned fireball, but gazing to the west, watching the play of light upon the mountains in the distance, the hills in-between, the rolling plains. The light brought the greens to new life, to a fresh day. The blue sky cleared of haze and foggy wisps to become its own perfection.

Lesson: The story that morning was in what the light shone upon, not in the sun itself.

Please visit the site and refer it anyone you think might find it of interest.  Thank you!