Sight Unseen

Resilient Purple Conelfowers, June 2025

Post Script. June 26, 2025

After taking the still life photograph of these cone flowers, I put them in a pottery pitcher. I cannot say that I arranged them with any care, but I did not want to throw them away, as though they were spent. Then this morning they caught my eye. I noticed how much the simplicity of the scene appealed to me. I took a few pictures. Shared here.

Not knowing just what to say—other than the obvious—I used the AI feature on Squarespace. Just for fun. I typed “small rituals” as the caption for my photograph and asked for a blurb. This is what the AI feature generated.

Small rituals anchor our days, offering subtle moments of calm and intention amid the rush. Whether it's the quiet act of brewing morning coffee, arranging fresh flowers on the windowsill, or taking a few mindful breaths before starting work, these simple habits create a rhythm that grounds us. They remind us to pause, to savor the present, and to reconnect with what matters. In photography, capturing these understated moments reveals the beauty in everyday life, highlighting the grace found in routine and repetition. Small rituals, though often overlooked, are powerful threads that weave meaning into daily living.

I am likely late to the whole world of AI. My son who is a university librarian is highly knowledgeable about this topic. He has recently educated me on the tremendous energy demands that AI creates and the resulting impact on our environment. The AI generated writing is smoother than my own clunky and convoluted manner of writing. But still, it’s too perfect for me. Too easy. There is a big part of me that believes the old adage—anything worth having is worth working for. At my core, I believe in hard work and somehow this just feels like cheating. Anything that seems to good to be true, likely is. I will keep an open mind. I will remain curious. But I will also exercise caution and common sense.

 
 

We’re in the midst of a week-long heat wave here in Virginia, with temperatures in the 105 degree range. Three is a hot breeze that swirls around every living thing. It makes the heat feel less oppressive and this is a slight relief. But the whole atmosphere feels foreboding, as though storms are building. In the air and in our hearts. It makes me feel unsettled.

I walk out into the garden and stare at the purple cone flowers, petals wilting but stems still strong and upright. I pass them everyday but hardly notice them in my rush to get inside to the cool air conditioning. Today I linger in the heat, letting it settle into my bones. I squat and take a few pictures of the flowers in-situ, but nothing soothes the sun’s glare. I finally concede and cut a few stems bringing them to shade and laying them out on brightly colored cloth. I think about what color and texture might complement the flowers and how they make me feel.

I wonder how it is that I keep circling back to these still life images and resolve to stop overthinking and just enjoy the practice, because not every story that my brain tells me is one I need to live inside. I don’t have to fix it all. I just have to take care of what is right in front of me. I don’t need to think more. I just need to slow down.

Small Rituals, June 2025

Homemade Blueberry Crumble

It’s my mother-in-law’s birthday and she is 93 years-old. This is our gift to her—homemade Blueberry Crumble.

While I am a decent cook, I am not a very good baker. So a crumble, a cobbler, or a crisp are my go-to desserts. They are reliably easy to make, do not require any fussy ingredients, and always please everyone. I’m sharing my favorite recipe here today (from Simply Julia, by Julia Turshen).

Blueberry Crumble, freshly baked, June 2025

For the blueberries

  • 1 pound (453 g) fresh or frozen blueberries (if frozen, no need to defrost)

  • 2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

  • 2 tablespoons cornstarch

  • 2 tablespoons light brown sugar

  • 1/4 teaspoon kosher salt

For the crumble topping

  • 1/2 cup (100 g) light brown sugar

  • 1/2 cup (70 g) whole wheat flour

  • 1/2 cup (60 g) rolled oats

  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt

  • 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

  • 6 tablespoons butter, cut into small pieces, at room temperature

First, preheat your oven to 350 degrees.

Next, prepare the blueberries. Place berries in a large bowl with the lemon juice, cornstarch, brown sugar and salt. Mix well. Transfer mixture to a 9-inch pie pan . No need to wash the bowl!

Then prepare the crumb topping.

In the same bowl you mixed the blueberries in, stir together the brown sugar, whole wheat flour, oats, salt and cinnamon. Add the butter and work the mixture with your hands, rubbing it between your fingertips to form large crumbs. (It should feel like dense, wet sand.)

Assemble and bake.

Dot the top of the blueberries evenly with the crumb mixture. Bake until the blueberries are bubbling and the crumbs are dark golden brown, about 45 minutes.

Allow the crumble to cool for at least 10 minutes before serving. Serve warm or at room temperature. Add a scoop of ice cream or whipped cream for topping.

Subject Change

I’m enjoying a book I found at the library book sale, Women Rowing North by Mary Pipher. Here are a few excerpts from the chapter, Building a Good Day.

Repetition gives us security while variation provides zest. We want a balance between regular habits that are deeply satisfying and spontaneity with its freshness and excitement. We want a good strong comfort zone and we want to be able to push ourselves outside it on a regular basis.

…

Contrasts heighten our sensory awareness.

…

“Subject Change” is a good phrase for thinking about contrasts. A day feels fresher if every now and then we can say, “Subject change,” and switch to doing something different. A vacation is a subject change and so is coming home. Working hard on a project, then stopping for a phone call, nap, or cup of coffee is a subject change.

As we move from one activity to another, we can find ways to focus on the transition, to create the conditions for being present and positive about whatever happens next.

By this way of thinking, my taking these early morning pictures serves as a regular habit that I find deeply satisfying.

And the QiGong class I took at the library was my switch to doing something new.

On the Art of Influence

My friend Cathy Sly is working her way through a project, 100 Days of Summer, where she takes a photo a day for this season. I’ve been following along and eagerly anticipating her daily posts. By coincidence, I took a few pictures on June 20th, summer solstice, and posted them here. And then I shared pictures from the farmer’s market yesterday, June 21st. And so it seems, I have been influenced by my friend. To take a picture-a-day this summer. This is not a thing that needs announcing. It is a thing to notice and embrace. Something so fragile as a glimmer of light.

Tea and Toast at Sunrise, June 2025

If I were to try to influence you, dear friend, I would begin in this way.

Do not wait to have tea and toast—as the sun rises and the heat of the is still at bay. This small ritual requires a special tea (a blend of bergamot, vanilla and lavender), a shiny red Bee House teapot, a vintage corning ware cherry mug. Fresh sourdough bread for the toast, soft butter, and blackberry jam. A little tray of some sort. A favorite book. A small light source—in this case an old camping lantern rescued from a leftover yard sale pile. All of these things may be substituted or replaced with whatever makes sense for you and your life. All that is required is that you place your hand to your heart and allow for rest.

No links provided. No need to spend any money at all.