The Art of Flowers - Japanese Anemone

"We can make room for more experiences of radiance, peace, and beauty; 

and when we do, they arrive. 

When we make an intention 

to experience peace, 

when we value it enough 

to make room for it

 and invite it into our busy lives, 

it arrives bearing gifts."

— Gina Lake 

from her book  

What about Now?: Reminders for Being in the Moment

Prints and More Available - HERE 

Tall Trees In Winter

Along a path at Hungry Mother State Park

Marion, Virginia 

Trees are sanctuaries. 

Whoever knows how to speak to them, 

whoever knows how to listen to them, 

can learn the truth. 

They do not preach learning and precepts, 

they preach, undeterred by particulars, 

the ancient law of life. 

Hermann Hesse

Prints and More are Available - HERE 

Canoe Reflections

Hungry Mother State Park - Marion, VA 

The imagination is a palette of bright colors. You can use it to touch up memories — or you can use it to paint dreams. 

~ Robert Brault

Prints and More Available - HERE 

Claytor Lake Landscape

Claytor Lake State Park - Dublin, Virginia 

“I think the only answer is to live life to the fullest while you can and collect memories like fools collect money. Because in the end, that's all you have - happy memories.” 

 ― Sarah Strohmeyer

Print Available - HERE 

Winter Landscape at Hungry Mother State Park

".....only in the winter, in the country, can you have longer, quiet stretches when you can savor belonging to yourself. "

 ~ Ruth Stout

Print Available - HERE 

The Guest

Mourning Dove in the Snow 

 "The happiest chap I ever met,

 The freest of all dark regret,

 Was one who deemed his days to be

 A gift of hospitality

 With God his Host; and as His guest

 Viewed everything with interest.

 And like a grateful visitor

 Who wished to even up the score,

 Did all he could both day and night

 To give his fellow-guests delight."

The Guest By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS

Print Available - HERE 

Male Cardinal as the Snow Falls

THRO' THE DEPTHS

By JOHN KENDRICK BANGS

 Underneath the fields are sleeping.

 Overhead the ice is gleaming,

 Underneath the rills are dreaming.

 Overhead the clouds are piling,

 But beyond the skies are smiling.

 Overhead the snow is falling,

 Yet I hear soft voices calling

 To my soul, through winter groping,

 Bidding me to keep on hoping,

 For that through such chill as this is,

 Through the arctical abysses,

 Nature leads her sons and daughters

 On to springtime's sunny waters.

Print Available - HERE