Daily Prompt: Eye of the Beholder – LET MUSIC RING!

December, 2012 – A magical night of music at the Boston Pops with the Berkshire Singers, the Pops Orchestra and Keith Lockhardt conducting. Old Symphony Hall is a star in its own right. Wonderful acoustics … great music … a happy night with the stars shining inside and out. And a very important guest on stage!



The swans were taking a siesta. This was a very brief moment when they actually lifted their heads up before going right back to sleep.

The swans were taking a siesta. Briefly these two lifted their heads before going back to sleep. I clicked the shutter.

Trying (again) to be painterly. Sort of Renoir cum Monet … or at least impressionist. I would love to paint but lack ambition. And talent. I lack that, too. So I take pictures.


You’d think that somehow, with that sickish feeling you get when the world is coming down around you, that the morning would stand out. Be different. Or at least, something about it would be different.


Not a bit. Regardless of events in my life — good, bad and catastrophic — morning is the same. Wake up. My back hurts. Spend half an hour awake, in bed, checking email, wondering if there’s any chance I might be able to go back to sleep. Looking to see if there’s a prompt to which I feel like responding.

Maybe I won a contest and became an overnight millionaire  (dream on, my lovely, dream on). Somewhere, someone is winning those big lottery prizes. Why not me?

And finally, fully awake, getting up. Finding my glasses. Brushing teeth and meandering to the kitchen to be greeted by three dogs, spinning and yipping in joy. “The giver of biscuits has arisen. She has come! Oh biscuits, oh great joy of morning!”


I insist I be allowed to start the coffee before distributing the first treats of the day. I need to know the coffee will come soon. Hot, rich coffee. Mmm. Click. Hiss. Yes. I can hear that drip beginning and just a hint of the taste wafts from the machine to my nose. Vanilla. It’s vanilla coffee today.

The little dogs are spinning so fast you’d think they’d fall down dizzy, but it never happens. The big one is trying to spin, but he’s a klutz and spends more time bumping into things than getting a good spin going. “Okay,” I say. “The big moment is here. Are we ready?”

Yip, whine, woof, grr. I think it means they’re ready. Tooth cleaning biscuits for the little guys with dental problems. Until a couple of days ago, my biggest financial worry — the short-term rather the longer view concern — was how to find affordable dental care for the terriers. Since I’m now worrying about staying alive, the terriers have dropped into the number two worry slot. One must prioritize.

I have a substantial chewy in hand for Bishop, the big furry dude.”Hey, Bubba, come and get it!

With a doggie grin and a shake of his silky coat, he gently takes the cookie from my hand, but maintains his position in the kitchen in preparation for the next round of goodies.


The terriers are dancing as I give them each an oral hygiene greenie … which fortunately, they love. Bonnie is a Scottie and has to take her greenie to the other room and hide while she consumes it. It’s a Scottie thing: never let another dog see what you do with your bones. Nan is a Norwich and getting on in years. She’ll just hang with the Bishop by the treats container. She is very focused.


I go over and wash the couple of things in the sink. I hear heavy breathing behind me. The fur children are restless. Time for round two. After which, it’s my turn. The coffee is ready. My cup is waiting. I need that coffee. If I were one of the dogs, I’d be spinning too.

Nothing is different from yesterday or the day before that. My world is upside down but everything is exactly the same. How weird is that?


If you are any kind of photographer, this is very busy time of year. The season is so fickle, so fragile … and the months that follow are gray. As photogenic as is autumn, the weeks that follow — as we move into winter — are drab and dull.

I take as many pictures as I can because in the months to come, nature will take off her party clothes and dress in workaday rags and not dress up again until the snow flies.

The bright yellow woods is my backyard. It’s hard to capture; it isn’t flashy. Not much scarlet or orange, but it’s beautiful with the sun filtering through yellow leaves. Difficult to catch the quality of light, but lovely to live amidst it.