I’m besotted with June,

When all the roses bloom.

I’m head over heel with the scents,

The roses exude.

Though they prick me.

Oh yes, they prick me!

I’m too infatuated to care.

D. Yustisia 06/12/16




The Irises Party

The weather has been glorious lately and visiting a garden seems to be perfect. On Saturday afternoon I visited Pardee Rose Garden because I know the irises are blooming everywhere and I’m pretty sure there will be some there. When I got to the garden, I saw the row of irises beautifully lining up on the outer side of the fence. It seemed like a party was happening in the garden by looking at the many colors the irises showed. Perhaps that’s what made Vincent van Gogh painted the Irises before he died. He captured the irises’ details intimately and created a stunning perception. I can’t paint as good as van Gogh, but I tried to capture the details I saw from the irises in the Pardee Rose Garden through my camera. Please, enjoy!

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

Irises of Pardee Rose Garden

I Spy With My Eyes

We live in a regular neighborhood. There doesn’t seem something extraordinary about it. Some part is quieter than others and some is busier. One afternoon I took my son biking and that means, I would run with him or try to catch up. Realizing what a gorgeous afternoon it was, I brought my camera along. On the way to left and right, without certain destination, I looked for something in this regular neighborhood that I’ve come to love, that maybe has some special angles and curves. When I eventually saw several things, I remember a game book that my son and I used to read, called “I Spy”. I had that “aha, I found it” moment here and there. Have you played that game before?

I spy with my eyes:

  • canopies of pear blossoms,
  • some violets under the stairs,
  • a vine-tangled gate,
  • orange daffodils nodding with the wind,
  • an angel guarding pansies, and
  • a hidden nest under forsythia.


Pear Blossoms

Violets Under the Stairs

Vine-tangled Gate


Angel & Pansies

A Hidden Nest

April Morning

I spent the last Friday morning in April walking about the neighborhood. It was a gorgeous morning and the Scilla siberica that I spotted, were blooming.


Scilla siberica


I would spend a morning
With an  April apple tree,
Speaking to it softly
And laughing out in glee.
All the summer sunshine
And all the winter moon
Are shining in the blossoms
That will be gone so soon.
I will spend a morning
With a friendly apple tree,
Hearing many secrets
That it will tell no one.
I will take a morning
To drink the beauty in:
I will take a morning –
But how shall I begin?

– George Elliston –

Reflections of the Peonies

I didn’t need them to pose for me to take their photographs. They were gladly showing off their colors and true beauty. One Sunday afternoon at Elizabeth Park, my mind was filled with outburst joy. And though they should be boastful, they certainly most humblest. The more prettier they become, the lower their heads would be. What a lovely, lovely things I saw before me. Oh, peonies!

(Elizabeth Park, Hartford 2013)








The Fallen Blossoms

Scattered and blended well with the brown ground, were the fallen petals of Eastern Redbuds. The contrasting colors complemented each, creating one of a kind nuance, that shows even when nature is mortal, beauty is immortal.

“The Amen of nature is always a flower.”

                                                   -Oliver Wendell Holmes-

Scattered Petals

Scattered Petals (Eastern Redbud)

Eastern Redbud Tree

Little Things in Life

I took the kids to visit New York City last Saturday. After visiting the American Museum of Natural History, we walked towards a garden behind the Rose Center. Some purple Alliums were blooming. Suddenly my son spotted a flower that was snapped, and took it. He said, how incredible it was, that so many little flowers could make up another flower. There were some flowers inside a flower. Such a simple philosophy, that nothing in nature is as big as nature itself. Funny thing is, this little man who held the flower and amazed by it,  soon will turn into a (great) man. How nature evolves before my eyes!

A Boy Holding Allium



It is not growing like a tree
In bulk, doth make Man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
          A lily of a day
          Is fairer far in May,
    Although it fall and die that night-
    It was the plant and flower of Light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.
                                             – Ben Johnson (1573-1637) –

Allium Globemaster

Purple Allium