a beautiful goodbye

"won't you miss her?", i am asked. "won't you worry?"
*
i will miss her, yes: of course i will. and i will worry. but i have raised her to follow her dreams, and if her dreams mean crossing oceans, and she crosses oceans, then i have done what i was meant to do.
*
mine is a mother's love.
it is as powerful, and as neverending, as tides, and time itself.

a crowning glory

"that vertical thingamabob," we asked the gentleman weeding his driehuizen
garden, "what is it called?"
(our new house - in broek op langedijk - has a perfect steeped gable, and we rather think that a typical north-holland embellishment would make it even lovelier, much to the chagrin of our children, who would prefer that we focus our attentions on buying a dishwasher.)
that's a "makelaar", he told us - in this case meaning, for some obscure reason, "the
honest division of possessions". builders, he explained, used signature spires,
representing either their own business, or symbolising the trade or profession of the
home owner himself. every curve, every angle, has a meaning.
we may need to do a bit of research.
i wonder if there's a finial for photobloggers?

the eves of distraction

jan - one of the many exceptional people i have met through the rangefinderforum - is absolutely right when he says, in a comment on an earlier image: "but enjoy some of the season before it slips into fall!"
i am aware of how neglectful i have been. i see the light at the end of the alleyway, and i see the colours; i just need to get the focus right.
i will, in the end.