With Gratitude

. . . for all we are given.

Produce Stand, Leavells Road, Spotsylvania | November 2025

Today’s post is in memory of my mother-in-law, Alice, who passed away peacefully in her sleep yesterday morning at the age of 93. She was a guiding light for our family; strong-willed, determined, generous, and steadfast. We will miss her dearly. She was a practical person. More prone to show her love through actions than words, but she never failed to show-up when needed, and always with love and humor and a can-do attitude.

Alice Hopkins, June 2021

To celebrate Alice’s life, I meandered here and there, taking a few pictures along the way. I stopped at the local produce stand just a mile from my home. The stand is situated near a gas station/convenience market in a small strip mall. In the early morning light, the owner had not yet opened and the offerings were slim. The last of the little pie pumpkins scattered here and there. Mums faded and toppled over. A few gourds and squash on the wooden tables. I took my photographs, leaving every element just as I found it, and then headed on my way. As I drove home, late in the afternoon, I noticed the stand had been cleared out leaving only the tent and bare tables. I know from past history, the Christmas trees and wreaths will come next. Time will move on, and we will savor every minute. It’s not about slowing time down, but rather, filling time up.

Second-hand Art

I love sourcing art from second-hand stores. I have a hard time leaving behind art that speaks to my heart and is handmade, especially if it is signed. There is something incredibly endearing about placing your name on your art and claiming it as a part of yourself. When people visit our home, they often ask me, “Where did you get all of these paintings?” The answer is always a thrift shop. I love to collect old photographs, vintage oil landscapes, maps, ephemera, architectural drawings, and botanical prints. I’m always on the lookout for art with texture, patina, and a bit of wear. My house is my canvas and the art is ever-changing.

Lately I’ve been photographing second-hand oil landscapes with the intention of creating a small collection of vintage art prints. Maybe for note cards? Or small artworks to share with friends? Or maybe just as my way of documenting the art and the craft of making things.

I added one still life oil panting to this collection, too. I am fascinated by the art of combining simple everyday objects—a slice of cantaloupe, an apple, spring onions, a cup or a bowl—to create vignettes. Styling for still life, whether photography or painting, can feel contrived and disconnected. But when it’s done right, the placement of things can make for art that is deeply moving.

Seasons Shifting

Virginia is beautiful for its four seasons and their full expressions, but the sweet spot is when the seasons overlap. They ease back-and-forth like an elastic band, stretching to showcase the beauty of what has past and the expectation of what is ahead. The mix of color and light is glorious, like the whole world is bathed in warmth and wonder.

When the Rules Change

Last Cosmos of the Season, Colonial Beach, November 2025

When the rules change, it’s okay to take long walks with my camera and just notice.

When the rules change, I don’t need to justify or explain why I like what I like. I realize I will wrestle with guilt. I understand that not everyone will understand. I can stay in connection with others even when we see things differently.

When the rules change, I get up in the middle of the night and edit the photos I took during the day. Just because I can’t wait to see what they look like. Do they reflect the way I felt on that perfect autumn day?

When the rules change, I realize there never were any rules. Only the the prison I built for myself. Is it possible to care too much and not enough at the same time?

When the rules change, I wonder what tomorrow will hold.