I’m obsessed (as I tend to be) with two things this week:
1. My awesome new camera, a Canon Digital Rebel T3i that I got for mother’s day. I know, spoiled much? I also got 10 ballet classes at my favorite studio, a new set of silverware and handmade jewelry. Jason has two settings: 0 (a Snuggi, still in the Walmart bag from where it was purchased) and 100 million (this year). Gotta love him for it.
2. This crazy tree in the desert just East of my house. It’s this old, wacky dead-looking thing with lots of knots and branches at strange angles. It was already cool in kind of a creepy, belongs on a haunted street in front of a haunted house with haunted bats living in it kind of way. Like that tree in the Berenstain Bears book, Spooky Old Tree. Have you read that one? It’s a favorite around here. The point is, this tree could have been that tree.
Then, last week, the tree exploded in tiny purple flowers. It was completely unexpected to me (though admittedly, I know little about things that grow, so the tiny tomatoes that have been appearing from behind the flowers on my tomato plants has been pretty unexpected to me, too). The tree didn’t grow leaves or anything, it just sprouted these gorgeous lavender blossoms all over the grey, rotten-looking wood. I thought it was stunning. It’s like the Helen Mirren of trees. It’s not trying to hide its age; just managing to look amazing in spite (and moreover, because) of it.
I’ve been so captivated by this tree and excited about my new camera that even though as a rule I think nature photography is lame and boring, I’ve been out on the side of the road obsessively photographing the tree. So, since it’s Nearly Wordless Wednesday (300ish words is ‘nearly wordless’ for me, haven’t you learned that yet?), you’re getting my tree pictures. Stop rolling your eyes; it’s a cool tree. And I won’t make this a habit. I’ll try to keep most of my Portrait of a Lone Saguaro at Sunrise photo essays to myself. Probably. Unless it’s a really cool Saguaro.