what remains (beauty in drought/ beauty in flood)


I had six or seven photos lined up for this post tonight. 

But then as I rewrote the title, and really clicked with the words, I saw: just this. 

Just this. 

There's so much beauty in the drought, and so much beauty in the flood. 

There's death in both, too. 

But what remains is just this moment. 

(Or love. Or g-d. Or whatever you wish to call it. The unfathomable now of all that is, right now.)

Yesterday we took a plane home (heart home for me) to California. After lunch, we took a spontaneous trip to a cacti garden. 

The drought in California is on everyone's mind, despite a few storms. These cacti are an amazing resource of besutiful landscaping that is drought resistant. 

Beauty in the achingly dry landscape. 

Today our adventuring took us to the Lawrence Hall of Science, where one of the most fascinating exhibits had us flooding a sand landscape with "water" (really, blue light). The colors on our hands was fascinating and luminous and beautiful. And deadly, had their been life on that potential landscape. 

Floods kill, but there's still beauty in the rushing waves. 

There's death and life and love and beauty. 

All at once. In this moment, this one.

Unfolding in each moment. Death, birth, love, hate, beauty. 

The ending/unending cycle. 


Just this. 

Just this.