Two Lone Hearts in a Park

I’ve photographed last sunsets and first sunrises of new-year transitions before and was not feeling it this time, but as the sun was revealed on our first-again rotation to greet it, I did decide to quickly depart to go pay tribute at my favorite local spot, especially since my own thoughts and feelings about New Year’s everything were disruptively in disaccord. So off I went, almost-regretfully-now past sunrise from indecisiveness but also confident when I feel the tug, the where and when always has its own divine purpose. At least it was early enough to have most of the “world” to myself.

My decision came with the peace, cleansing, and renewal I knew it would as I got to leisurely take in and photograph the grand and minute, having the downtown riverwalk all to myself. If you’ve read or viewed my previous work, you know how obsessed I’ve always been since moving to this historic little city with my bridge (and trains) here, my soul somehow connected to it in a home-like way, at least as a familiar stop in the sure direction of home. It’s fitting I start here again; it’s where I left off with this post almost a year ago when I took way too long of a break from writing and photographing, from myself:

That last year, and the one before, and perhaps all of the ones back to my childhood… let’s just say, this is the first one I can remember that I am beginning healthy, healed, and free. So maybe I will embrace this next revolution. Perhaps this is the one in which I find home. It already started with a Day One smile when that “where and when” of that tug revealed itself so personally to me:

All images©️LauraDenise

Covenant

Single glistening gossamer thread
catching and releasing rays with wind,
perhaps a bridge
between the yellow and white
wildflowers aglow with golden morning light.

I sit transfixed
by its intermittent existence…

Shadows have yet to be filled in
by Sun still half in bed,
and my ataractic trance
is interrupted by silhouettes:

two “mourning” doves,
omen of good fortune in love

or celestial messengers
like yesterday’s hummingbird
letting me know He’s been present all along,
and this is the amaranthine after-(last)storm calm.