This colourful flower bursting out from between its constricting fence border captured my eye.
To me, the brilliant red blossom represents . . .
. . . beauty that wants to be shared and appreciated and not hidden away . . .
. . . natural gifts that should never be wasted . . .
. . . bright optimism in grey times . . .
What does the picture bring to your mind?
A friend sent me a link to the photographic work of Tom Hussey. Among his series is one entitled Reflections. (Please take a moment to look at the work. I respect (a) copyright, and (b) his professionalism too much to copy the pictures. Here is the link: http://www.tomhussey.com/#/SERIES%20%20/Reflections/1 )
Each photograph features an older person looking in the mirror and seeing a reflection of the person as they see themselves: a young efficient nurse, a physically fit firefighter, a university graduate, a stunning young artist. The photographs give us a voyeuristic view of both sides.
When my mother-in-law lived in her long-term care facility, we put pictures of her as a young, fit woman in her room. The pictures weren’t there just for her; they were there for her care staff. We wanted everyone who walked into her room to see more than a wheelchair-bound old woman, no longer able to speak. The woman in that room once played in the Canadian Open tennis championships. (Early rounds, but still.) At the age of 80, the woman in that room could outpace me on cross-country skis. When the woman in that room looked in the mirror, she saw this:
Now that I’m, ahem, getting on years, I relate to this far more than I would like. I look in a mirror and wonder, “When did those wrinkles get there?” I think, “I’m too young for such a thing to be happening to me.”
Alas, time is changing my outer self, but rest assured, when I look in a mirror, I see this . . .
or this . . .
or even this . . .
If the rest of you see a middle-aged woman, sorry about that.