tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-192139042024-03-21T01:39:53.717-04:00All That Is Gold Does Not Glitter~A collection of my photographs and favorite writings~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.comBlogger419125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-1224750871487101302007-05-02T10:04:00.000-04:002007-05-14T17:35:36.662-04:00My Last Blog Post<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjKcAIY_yeWx4K5UyG1C8I-ZUC-UUVXQnoL4ptBFA-abR3KL4VpPM9VwH7ROrTU-_bUts0TSz_nghJIAXawWrtVXJ47QebmJJwqxaLYWvg6Rve3vmx9xbSY_OQkH0PfrvKGhT/s1600-h/100_9076-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJjKcAIY_yeWx4K5UyG1C8I-ZUC-UUVXQnoL4ptBFA-abR3KL4VpPM9VwH7ROrTU-_bUts0TSz_nghJIAXawWrtVXJ47QebmJJwqxaLYWvg6Rve3vmx9xbSY_OQkH0PfrvKGhT/s320/100_9076-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059975124604669890" border="0" /></a><br />I've had a hell of a lot of fun and I've enjoyed every minute of it.<br /><br />~© Errol Flynn~<br /><br />(If you're interested in looking at my new photographs, I'll be continuing posting them <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/smileytd/">here</a>.)<br /><img class="emoticon" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v28/nainarulz/emoz/icon_rolleyes.gif" alt="rolleyes" title="rolleyes" height="15" width="15" />SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-61262467138461298712007-05-01T21:40:00.000-04:002007-05-01T22:21:55.756-04:00The Sweet, Simple Things<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrqTK3i_eSAJWMPeHQDBZVFSjnRsbRqDqycQeEspAVhy3vFP_C1U_wO77N-Myp-YjERJktnny2vpWXODWNtPEacSl1HCYV2zgozVW9_J0M-maP4V2znZHosdOaisgg8Qbh_zi/s1600-h/100_8714-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOrqTK3i_eSAJWMPeHQDBZVFSjnRsbRqDqycQeEspAVhy3vFP_C1U_wO77N-Myp-YjERJktnny2vpWXODWNtPEacSl1HCYV2zgozVW9_J0M-maP4V2znZHosdOaisgg8Qbh_zi/s320/100_8714-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059777006353239986" border="0" /></a><br />I am beginning to learn that it is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.<br /><br />~© Laura Ingalls Wilder~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-60370722682172234132007-04-30T10:40:00.000-04:002007-04-30T10:55:29.386-04:00Poetry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8FMAmUOon6BySrd1L85lKoIgNawWJrolP0WPGHFzNZTF4JGWD4NYhO4L7DEiCmepXPJJNddy4l-t8-K8u2yocN-kqGmXHqCO1Fe2RXW8Ak9uaksrBmX86o0Uy5UgiHp8633Vq/s1600-h/100_8630-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8FMAmUOon6BySrd1L85lKoIgNawWJrolP0WPGHFzNZTF4JGWD4NYhO4L7DEiCmepXPJJNddy4l-t8-K8u2yocN-kqGmXHqCO1Fe2RXW8Ak9uaksrBmX86o0Uy5UgiHp8633Vq/s320/100_8630-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5059232138212134818" border="0" /></a><br />There is only beauty and it has only one perfect expression- poetry. All the rest is a lie, except for those who live by the body, love, and, that love of the mind- friendship. For me, Poetry takes the place of love because it is enamored of itself and because its sensual delight falls back deliciously in my soul.<br /><br />~© Stephane Mallarm~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-73077456893068641412007-04-29T19:31:00.000-04:002007-04-29T20:18:01.961-04:00My Home<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicw-JT9nge1zceaHePyZ88JlAxBhtdFN2BGNtGpH7xdOfWFMx61e_YUQrgADtYkzirk0N9HgHuX5Pf146JDkV4DRDtsFyxLhrnblWG0ImNNmnyJpNkIH-cdLi9XIa-VXOD737O/s1600-h/100_9040-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicw-JT9nge1zceaHePyZ88JlAxBhtdFN2BGNtGpH7xdOfWFMx61e_YUQrgADtYkzirk0N9HgHuX5Pf146JDkV4DRDtsFyxLhrnblWG0ImNNmnyJpNkIH-cdLi9XIa-VXOD737O/s320/100_9040-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058997542803459986" border="0" /></a><br />This is the place that I love the best,<br />A little brown house, like a ground-bird's nest,<br />Hid among grasses, and vines, and trees,<br />Summer retreat of the birds and bees.<br /><br />The tenderest light that ever was seen<br />Sifts through the vine-made window screen--<br />Sifts and quivers, and flits and falls<br />On home-made carpets and gray-hung walls.<br /><br />All through June the west wind free<br />The breath of clover brings to me.<br />All through the languid July day<br />I catch the scent of new-mown hay.<br /><br />The morning-glories and scarlet vine<br />Over the doorway twist and twine;<br />And every day, when the house is still,<br />The humming-bird comes to the window-sill.<br /><br />In the cunningest chamber under the sun<br />I sink to sleep when the day is done;<br />And am waked at morn, in my snow-white bed,<br />By a singing bird on the roof o'erhead.<br /><br />Better than treasures brought from Rome,<br />Are the living pictures I see at home--<br />My aged father, with frosted hair,<br />And mother's face, like a painting rare.<br /><br />Far from the city's dust and heat,<br />I get but sounds and odors sweet.<br />Who can wonder I love to stay,<br />Week after week, here hidden away,<br />In this sly nook that I love the best--<br />This little brown house like a ground-bird's nest?<br /><br />~© Edna Wheeler Wilcox~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-33448440209331409072007-04-28T20:47:00.000-04:002007-04-28T21:02:17.639-04:00Just Let The Sun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-K5vbekSTUODtT0d44Dd16G7tJPpWXWem8z98teOuw-8RSVjyaZDa-DixyZECgT2jWKfpdHPyEYRvQq2XAI5B00omOAsuduRmuRZ4RoAMWND5s-P7RFVg1s2PONVN9sjleSXC/s1600-h/Peeking+Sun-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-K5vbekSTUODtT0d44Dd16G7tJPpWXWem8z98teOuw-8RSVjyaZDa-DixyZECgT2jWKfpdHPyEYRvQq2XAI5B00omOAsuduRmuRZ4RoAMWND5s-P7RFVg1s2PONVN9sjleSXC/s320/Peeking+Sun-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058646158644072322" border="0" /></a><br />Just let the sun<br />Shine on your face<br />Only the darkness blinds your way<br /><br />You take it easy<br />You walk on your own<br />Look for the sunshine<br />You'll find your way home<br /><br />Just let the sun<br />Find your way home<br /><br />~© Skin, excerpted lyrics~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-44952967642061217752007-04-27T11:13:00.000-04:002007-04-27T11:40:30.372-04:00In The Light<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgBFda3KtpV2zzXScSnO1-YcnNafgFLTuBB5pIwGJq1CZT9lFYAeYMf6CJQJfXSljkgxmBGuNowhHsJgu2vX4Eq52WbXrh-EKo9hyBx8Xf480Q7H9F8b-nDZoGAL8QyBQV2vY/s1600-h/100_8582-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixgBFda3KtpV2zzXScSnO1-YcnNafgFLTuBB5pIwGJq1CZT9lFYAeYMf6CJQJfXSljkgxmBGuNowhHsJgu2vX4Eq52WbXrh-EKo9hyBx8Xf480Q7H9F8b-nDZoGAL8QyBQV2vY/s320/100_8582-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5058130251467444066" border="0" /></a><br />Dwelling in the light, there is no occasion at all for stumbling, for all things are discovered in the light.<br /><br />~© George Fox~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-84934230920493866222007-04-26T12:17:00.000-04:002007-04-26T15:01:21.400-04:00The Sensitive Plant<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejz4TjPl40yNjJnPMqvmZ-cKMIG5RlQF4DvIq9Hs_9BEW985qPH3ZwVdw-apDzUGNXMhekKI9UNmVpPGWLkbnzHKjHJzlCeoBWRhltIpV-s3qexcN2NMn5Vz3M7Jhcu3tdImi/s1600-h/100_8715-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejz4TjPl40yNjJnPMqvmZ-cKMIG5RlQF4DvIq9Hs_9BEW985qPH3ZwVdw-apDzUGNXMhekKI9UNmVpPGWLkbnzHKjHJzlCeoBWRhltIpV-s3qexcN2NMn5Vz3M7Jhcu3tdImi/s320/100_8715-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057800857540611922" border="0" /></a><br />And Spring arose on the garden fair,<br />Like the Spirit of Love felt everywhere;<br />And each flower and herb on Earth's dark breast<br />Rose from the dreams of its wintry rest.<br /><br />~© Percy Bysshe Shelley~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-74066802817019718492007-04-25T17:48:00.000-04:002007-04-25T18:00:44.040-04:00Reverie<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOoPgcI4TDN_cQvv-T7VeQI3nYYaHqog_slh0CrP7b2xzJomluHVREgolw2UkomrDZFWhYtT292XIQ2ODMeu4cez3S7yuyGaMj_thfwV81XRqp9lioZ6ILKCqv8lyYCNkQJbgL/s1600-h/100_8523-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOoPgcI4TDN_cQvv-T7VeQI3nYYaHqog_slh0CrP7b2xzJomluHVREgolw2UkomrDZFWhYtT292XIQ2ODMeu4cez3S7yuyGaMj_thfwV81XRqp9lioZ6ILKCqv8lyYCNkQJbgL/s320/100_8523-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057487402237415218" border="0" /></a><br />To lose one's self in reverie, one must be either very happy, or very unhappy. Reverie is the child of extremes. <br /><br />~© Antoine Rivarol~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-44543171269140806852007-04-24T20:09:00.000-04:002007-04-24T20:19:11.496-04:00A Teachable Moment Of Clarity<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEOIGMqZfZGY-nvo36Nm89E_Fay1bZ-leuxkcgl0juA4TMYd4quAL5V7IiSvDuuOJvfSQBY-7DqSXAtVW14Wu3cni_JZmH_5mI_2FkENd-ii7D8NevA_1Xxt9Z_4SWU9CafUW/s1600-h/100_8745-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEOIGMqZfZGY-nvo36Nm89E_Fay1bZ-leuxkcgl0juA4TMYd4quAL5V7IiSvDuuOJvfSQBY-7DqSXAtVW14Wu3cni_JZmH_5mI_2FkENd-ii7D8NevA_1Xxt9Z_4SWU9CafUW/s320/100_8745-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057152412661255426" border="0" /></a><br />Having long striven, having been driven<br />To amount to something- now I stand at<br />The crossroads of a teachable moment<br /><br />This is a time in which fate would foment<br />Change to rearrange my reality<br />And now fate is doing precisely that<br /><br />It is in the darkness I learn to see<br />At dusk I learn to hope for coming dawn<br />In winter I appreciate the spring<br />And see the light brightest when it is gone<br /><br />Now fate offers me a challenge to grow<br />To seek and find the all in everything<br />And learn the more I know the less I know<br /><br />To taste of the joy of simply being<br />And experience the peace of seeing<br />Not through rose-colored glasses nor through black<br />Embracing what I have not what I lack<br /><br />A teachable moment of clarity<br />It is not too late for this gift of fate:<br />I rise now to my higher destiny<br /><br />~© Steven Curtis Lance~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-33327692860149897412007-04-23T21:20:00.000-04:002007-04-23T23:47:05.505-04:00Following The Sun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIxdGRDPzJYjVyLnPa9Ux5CNopKcRsnVb3RcTBs-3cxRsKwEDSJveYjLdaBTzU-EIc7K19Zr1ddMse_2VFnDIRF57W1kDcqWwTQTwzGEMfFlbkSRuO-R_tgaZSq9Z1DWAU688d/s1600-h/100_8877-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIxdGRDPzJYjVyLnPa9Ux5CNopKcRsnVb3RcTBs-3cxRsKwEDSJveYjLdaBTzU-EIc7K19Zr1ddMse_2VFnDIRF57W1kDcqWwTQTwzGEMfFlbkSRuO-R_tgaZSq9Z1DWAU688d/s320/100_8877-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056799250385407218" border="0" /></a><br />Following the sun, to find the one<br />Who's giving you the wings to fly<br />Following the sun, the golden one<br />Losing sense for space and time<br /><br />Can you feel the waves of life<br />Can you hear the sigh of love<br />Do you believe in it<br /><br />Following the sun, just for the one<br />Till you'll find the door you thought<br />Following the sun, like everyone<br />Searching for a sign of hope<br /><br />~© Enigma, excerpted lyrics~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-1060230678937595792007-04-23T00:35:00.000-04:002007-04-23T02:33:35.083-04:00Don't Fade Away<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJY9EYNG0eMYE_bhdV5oDk-CJEBZ78vLgKzf_Ha4aQ_-Z3CUwWzcbYpi3Ekw-DW9GSFfuiDp02WpK2SjV7p1V-M7Nsmo7H3qzx0NgAtWJStV6Jj7kUFCp_pvGr2rjF0uSJIevF/s1600-h/100_8713-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJY9EYNG0eMYE_bhdV5oDk-CJEBZ78vLgKzf_Ha4aQ_-Z3CUwWzcbYpi3Ekw-DW9GSFfuiDp02WpK2SjV7p1V-M7Nsmo7H3qzx0NgAtWJStV6Jj7kUFCp_pvGr2rjF0uSJIevF/s320/100_8713-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056477922407156962" border="0" /></a><br />And so I stand at the crossroad,<br />Watching the sun sinking low...<br />With my cross of indecision,<br />Trying to find the way to go...<br /><br />All in all its been a rocky road,<br />Twists and turns along the way...<br />But I still pray for tomorrow,<br />All my hopes, my dreams<br />Don't fade away<br /><br />~© Whitesnake, excerpted lyrics~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-6207491146872670512007-04-19T08:22:00.000-04:002007-04-19T08:36:00.764-04:00Augeries Of Innocence<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2FuEI8EwiNbrstL8knB_pXhmWiKzeOBxPjrNDBHzQONXEXHsuW3VbO7buNPvAheBCbV_THrD7AtTmmjNQ11uHFxBLMJSFV-QuTRCKNcc_DBB_hcqm8f3_nLkUeqFP3OsPZ8A/s1600-h/100_7782-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2FuEI8EwiNbrstL8knB_pXhmWiKzeOBxPjrNDBHzQONXEXHsuW3VbO7buNPvAheBCbV_THrD7AtTmmjNQ11uHFxBLMJSFV-QuTRCKNcc_DBB_hcqm8f3_nLkUeqFP3OsPZ8A/s320/100_7782-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055115292492893378" border="0" /></a><br />To see a World in a Grain of Sand<br />And a Heaven in a wild Flower,<br />Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand<br />And Eternity in an hour.<br /><br />~© William Blake~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-36592967682537279132007-04-18T18:44:00.000-04:002007-04-18T18:56:22.657-04:00Wash<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUS6D5rHOdvA7nQMpbj-nL-pPrS6d8jF_S6BsZEM6a9ozAvgia9a0HBjEt1ud-XLKut-otclJnHacCRMc2tmtkmPvzz4FTCP7XV-9w8RrL4wXzNMJ2lzup32GagCsiBSElezI/s1600-h/100_8042-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUS6D5rHOdvA7nQMpbj-nL-pPrS6d8jF_S6BsZEM6a9ozAvgia9a0HBjEt1ud-XLKut-otclJnHacCRMc2tmtkmPvzz4FTCP7XV-9w8RrL4wXzNMJ2lzup32GagCsiBSElezI/s320/100_8042-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054905209104304898" border="0" /></a><br />everything in the world was falling through<br />all I knew was to look to you<br />my sunshine<br /><br />all my life never found my place<br />until I felt the sunlight on my face<br />my sunshine<br /><br />never meant to waste your time<br />never meant to fall out of line<br />I always tried to get closer to you<br />now it seems with every step<br />feels like I'm losing my breath<br />I don't know what else I can do<br /><br />but you wash over me<br />you wash over me like rain<br />and you wash over me<br />you wash over me like sunshine<br />and you wash over me<br />you wash over me like rain<br />and you fall into me<br />you crawl into me like sunshine<br />like sunshine<br />like sunshine<br />like sunshine<br /><br />~© Lifehouse, Excerpted lyrics~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-70140224195513745842007-04-17T12:14:00.000-04:002007-04-17T14:58:42.911-04:00The Setting Sun<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7D1kksLWUgKFB1SveoWubb8r-hE3fq80kGY5LT2iV77KEQGXh3j5jbshfvk5gNuwQHV8Aqgg_WQG0dHYhsUjYVfsyP327wZxLaulJTrtsdkMpYlBb7B7YXu0GNwvzXU_-MZqX/s1600-h/100_8504-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7D1kksLWUgKFB1SveoWubb8r-hE3fq80kGY5LT2iV77KEQGXh3j5jbshfvk5gNuwQHV8Aqgg_WQG0dHYhsUjYVfsyP327wZxLaulJTrtsdkMpYlBb7B7YXu0GNwvzXU_-MZqX/s320/100_8504-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054445491737030610" border="0" /></a><br />After a day of cloud and wind and rain<br /> Sometimes the setting sun breaks out again,<br /> And touching all the darksome woods with light,<br /> Smiles on the fields until they laugh and sing,<br /> Then like a ruby from the horizon's ring,<br /> Drops down into the night.<br /><br />~© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-85825607632211013082007-04-16T12:35:00.000-04:002007-04-16T12:52:49.164-04:00Life<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEG361KmWh_wwtRwEkIlZzXgBdgx_QYJsoYRwDyqOFoHrBIR0ojFVuXLHHFJ4xUKK54sOSL5CFrj6EQRgSWWvNopilzAJDfH6tnH0kj034NUnqnSX-NZ03r_heIG6Tm-aE8slw/s1600-h/Design+for+photo+illustration-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEG361KmWh_wwtRwEkIlZzXgBdgx_QYJsoYRwDyqOFoHrBIR0ojFVuXLHHFJ4xUKK54sOSL5CFrj6EQRgSWWvNopilzAJDfH6tnH0kj034NUnqnSX-NZ03r_heIG6Tm-aE8slw/s320/Design+for+photo+illustration-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054066516707733442" border="0" /></a><br />Life is the art of drawing without an eraser.<br /><br />~© John W. Gardner~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-73287257786585172512007-04-15T01:06:00.000-04:002007-04-15T01:55:49.325-04:00Bridge To Cross<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVrfRzm8sf8bqrbQSO8YYs7cy_vTYpE2yl7j7hr4EL_VXG-8-zXEvh2sZhWpBuRZG_JT8sjNkC8ygkku1dI_Ijlt6KUNuyqEZREsmu1c2SpMmSV599Aoo-ScYq49tpu68m-Bx/s1600-h/100_8096-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCVrfRzm8sf8bqrbQSO8YYs7cy_vTYpE2yl7j7hr4EL_VXG-8-zXEvh2sZhWpBuRZG_JT8sjNkC8ygkku1dI_Ijlt6KUNuyqEZREsmu1c2SpMmSV599Aoo-ScYq49tpu68m-Bx/s320/100_8096-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053529409572532146" border="0" /></a><br />All is black and white<br />Wouldn't change even if I could<br />I'll take what I'm handed<br />Whether it's damned or if it's good<br />If it's good<br />If it's good<br /><br />~© Black Label Society~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-77655102790575808122007-04-13T16:51:00.000-04:002007-04-13T17:30:01.242-04:00Every Day Miracles<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7XubIfqjDRPfR5DCrowf_DwnOobxxPQpv7DTYB2vTd88WnC3ZKhx6dP6ZSCO_f_tOAALalbDLLvGPNVLjh_-7wNzMIxrMHNMMDWFQBR5-Jw3GQ_AnX5zf6WduLDizsofRAxH5/s1600-h/100_8346-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7XubIfqjDRPfR5DCrowf_DwnOobxxPQpv7DTYB2vTd88WnC3ZKhx6dP6ZSCO_f_tOAALalbDLLvGPNVLjh_-7wNzMIxrMHNMMDWFQBR5-Jw3GQ_AnX5zf6WduLDizsofRAxH5/s320/100_8346-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053020181070049170" border="0" /></a><br />People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child -- our own two eyes. All is a miracle.<br /><br />~© Thich Nhat Hanh~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-88944103513727789012007-04-12T11:22:00.000-04:002007-04-12T11:51:35.737-04:00Spring<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiER5sf2-IWS90qNTz-NNSIMGRZc1eLCXHYO7iwB7TkM2GlRX3O6k46AJ_IYEAwmV935UhWm3QNhC_1-JysyIlSMNphQjrU4uDn0pWfi8dTiGElm4LKIsh53-XYSFghEybPZGc7/s1600-h/100_8080-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiER5sf2-IWS90qNTz-NNSIMGRZc1eLCXHYO7iwB7TkM2GlRX3O6k46AJ_IYEAwmV935UhWm3QNhC_1-JysyIlSMNphQjrU4uDn0pWfi8dTiGElm4LKIsh53-XYSFghEybPZGc7/s320/100_8080-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052564240226807682" border="0" /></a><br />The air and the earth interpenetrated in the warm gusts<br />of spring; the soil was full of sunlight, and the sunlight full<br />of red dust. The air one breathed was saturated with<br />earthy smells, and the grass under foot<br />had a reflection of the blue sky in it.<br /><br />~© Willa Cather~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-24056368117261586662007-04-11T10:00:00.000-04:002007-04-11T11:07:05.569-04:00The Violet<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgStgvDpS2nNYp5C11K-5dC5isdVOsSyTnGXa9bVK_KZ5mNWp_UnHtnJscPAjPZUjjo0pKGA-nfG4Pe9-qbKiRruGy693FmyeVq3mwTrvbMBlY4MP8K_jSzOGxObTNGPqSJk3ak/s1600-h/100_8336-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgStgvDpS2nNYp5C11K-5dC5isdVOsSyTnGXa9bVK_KZ5mNWp_UnHtnJscPAjPZUjjo0pKGA-nfG4Pe9-qbKiRruGy693FmyeVq3mwTrvbMBlY4MP8K_jSzOGxObTNGPqSJk3ak/s320/100_8336-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5052181008884920178" border="0" /></a><br />The splendor of the rose and the whiteness of the lily do not rob the little violet of it’s scent nor the daisy of its simple charm. If every tiny flower wanted to be a rose, Spring would lose its loveliness.<br /><br />~© Therese of Lisieux~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-38248838412685736402007-04-09T16:44:00.000-04:002007-04-09T17:29:05.740-04:00When My Heart Is Heavy...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyThKwCBVGXc9keVVexVtnDKbguMIhjLmoaJ3QsDvTrqGlfRrNKYEO5nYGiKWVvUpZfGhgm1cBPcUaOMddPvx3W4z5UMDHow8ycz1dyAX7ecolU_ItUnRPckYwXwlhB6kYSFMR/s1600-h/100_8049-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyThKwCBVGXc9keVVexVtnDKbguMIhjLmoaJ3QsDvTrqGlfRrNKYEO5nYGiKWVvUpZfGhgm1cBPcUaOMddPvx3W4z5UMDHow8ycz1dyAX7ecolU_ItUnRPckYwXwlhB6kYSFMR/s320/100_8049-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051537476339014754" border="0" /></a><br />When my heart is heavy, the sun helps make it light. <br /><br />~© Astrid Alauda~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-432492163219776282007-04-08T13:04:00.000-04:002007-04-08T13:14:47.008-04:00Meeting The Easter Bunny<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NubbUjffIZq-LfRWsumblDwec6lBtpE78_8giGMtoAnwZBQtM8nspuNFPPnd7-lYGBpPSvv9P4ihOVrh_YYtMHVBdlCbrft-eK-YpBMvzbA0eKe08vyhXAF91UnH-wFYa2Gp/s1600-h/100_8147-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0NubbUjffIZq-LfRWsumblDwec6lBtpE78_8giGMtoAnwZBQtM8nspuNFPPnd7-lYGBpPSvv9P4ihOVrh_YYtMHVBdlCbrft-eK-YpBMvzbA0eKe08vyhXAF91UnH-wFYa2Gp/s320/100_8147-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5051105441283742802" border="0" /></a><br />On Easter morn at early dawn<br /> before the cocks were crowing<br />I met a bob-tail bunnykin<br /> and asked where he was going.<br />"Tis in the house and out the house<br /> a-tipsy, tipsy-toeing,<br />Tis round the house and 'bout the house<br /> a-lightly I am going."<br />"But what is that of every hue<br /> you carry in your basket?"<br />"Tis eggs of gold and eggs of blue;<br /> I wonder that you ask it.<br /><br />"Tis chocolate eggs and bonbon eggs<br /> and eggs of red and gray,<br />For every child in every house<br /> on bonny Easter day."<br />He perked his ears and winked his eye<br /> and twitched his little nose;<br />He shook his tail -- what tail he had --<br /> and stood up on his toes.<br />"I must be gone before the sun;<br /> the east is growing gray;<br />Tis almost time for bells to chime." --<br /> So he hippety-hopped away.<br /><br />~© Author Unknown~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-35339069304991208972007-04-06T13:19:00.000-04:002007-04-06T13:37:36.598-04:00A Lesson<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3B4Ag6cg11bBvQejvCLhtvHkcSIaswWgV-a7Zp7VfFY1sUjZfr3HxzmPhEGJmXhR9SiuhRKdm7t3_YAgtcAr5WYbqRTDkzq8maIroeKjlwvZV49wCRvJDYtc1moqrCpe_SXyG/s1600-h/100_8242-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3B4Ag6cg11bBvQejvCLhtvHkcSIaswWgV-a7Zp7VfFY1sUjZfr3HxzmPhEGJmXhR9SiuhRKdm7t3_YAgtcAr5WYbqRTDkzq8maIroeKjlwvZV49wCRvJDYtc1moqrCpe_SXyG/s320/100_8242-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050368772788100162" border="0" /></a><br />Aerodynamically, the bumble bee shouldn't be able to fly, but the bumble bee doesn't know it, so it goes on flying anyway. <br /><br />~© Mary Kay Ash~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-70629145894492503152007-04-05T15:42:00.000-04:002007-04-05T16:10:40.703-04:00The Dandelion<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTgN5Jk_hdCkZ6lwZdnLVpcIJ8bJE-D4D_ZNAN8MRTT6WYfBeg7ntK48gXzhkqhRVMbdD4A9YOp-HQxvEx0C6OqOZIsjmY2iKq4b2TwsP0WT9IcU6IsebONMn6_C9IJzQG6hDV/s1600-h/100_8220-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTgN5Jk_hdCkZ6lwZdnLVpcIJ8bJE-D4D_ZNAN8MRTT6WYfBeg7ntK48gXzhkqhRVMbdD4A9YOp-HQxvEx0C6OqOZIsjmY2iKq4b2TwsP0WT9IcU6IsebONMn6_C9IJzQG6hDV/s320/100_8220-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5050032773201566770" border="0" /></a><br />It gives one a sudden start in going down a barren, stony street, to see upon a narrow strip of grass, just within the iron fence, the radiant dandelion, shining in the grass, like a spark dropped from the sun.<br /><br />~© Henry Ward Beecher~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-44563151390684368972007-04-04T09:18:00.000-04:002007-04-04T09:46:51.951-04:00The Sky<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdksIGIvUiHCfJMECArgutPKuZJkz0Wf8cbmuaK-7UoKYEIoQGwTeckpf-J0Jthv815-wEEEaZgEQSkiAW7LG-GAnvPzQDHivmxq0YZbkmMhVdH_t-EqEKL_yK7sR0oCdFc5wD/s1600-h/100_8161-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdksIGIvUiHCfJMECArgutPKuZJkz0Wf8cbmuaK-7UoKYEIoQGwTeckpf-J0Jthv815-wEEEaZgEQSkiAW7LG-GAnvPzQDHivmxq0YZbkmMhVdH_t-EqEKL_yK7sR0oCdFc5wD/s320/100_8161-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049562495757491234" border="0" /></a><br />I have scarcely touched the sky and I am made of it.<br /><br />~© Antonio Porchia~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19213904.post-51996302106645655202007-04-03T22:16:00.000-04:002007-04-03T22:23:17.666-04:00Violets<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqdw-l4acsCZ9m0wjf1Zf8Menlwm22zDB1gMiEsfQP4gQpAC0SwTfTTWbBdmC1WX2fVMRjXh-9-3Za3n_XscKD3qhAH18dFkYHceQvPZ3To4NdQE11FCn38YwP_PsjzAWV5pK/s1600-h/100_8148-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJqdw-l4acsCZ9m0wjf1Zf8Menlwm22zDB1gMiEsfQP4gQpAC0SwTfTTWbBdmC1WX2fVMRjXh-9-3Za3n_XscKD3qhAH18dFkYHceQvPZ3To4NdQE11FCn38YwP_PsjzAWV5pK/s320/100_8148-%C2%A9+Trina+Drake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5049391556059110418" border="0" /></a><br />Again the violet of our early days<br /> Drinks beauteous azure from the golden sun,<br /> And kindles into fragrance at his blaze.<br /><br />~© Ebenezer Elliott~SmileyTDhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12279185134120476035noreply@blogger.com0