Tag: nature seen

The First Nature Seen

Hello pals!

I’ve decided to feature photos from nature on this site as part of a series I’m calling “Nature Seen.”

This is supposed to be a play on the word “scene,” so I’m hoping people will realize this and not think that I don’t know the difference.

I was going to call it Nature Rocks! but I didn’t want to be a part of the disturbing national problem that is the overuse of exclamation points, and decided that it sounded too much like I was featuring pictures of rocks. Which would be kind of cool. I like rocks and have collected them my entire life, since the acquisition of my first rock tumbler as a child.

But that’s not what I’m trying to do here.

I am setting no limits except that the picture must involve an aspect of nature and be taken by me. Anyone can have an image of the day website featuring images borrowed from the internet, so I wanted to be unique and make them all Tawni’s-eye-view shots.

I love planting flowers, landscaping, and gardening, camping… and I love nature walks. A natural setting is where I feel the most calm and relaxed. Nature has always been my zen–my church–and the happy place I go to in my head finds me sitting next to a gently trickling stream amid evergreen┬átrees.

I grew up on a farm and spent hours exploring the forest as a kid, and if I won the lottery (that I don’t play) next week, the first thing I’d do would be to immediately buy many acres of land. And then build and run my own animal shelter. But I digress.

Anyhow. I am doing this because I want to share something that brings me much joy. I hope you like it.


Today’s images feature my irises. I have a fetish for purple and blue flowers that caused me to plant three little iris bulbs four years ago, when we first moved into our home.

The front and back yard areas were completely blank, save for a few prickly, annoying holly bushes the builders stuck in front of the house under the guise of landscaping.

I immediately planted foundation bushes, and that fall, got bulbs planted that would produce flowers every spring. The three iris bulbs were in that first planting.

Every year I get a few more irises. Three has become so many more. The bulbs multiply and come back stronger in the spring, despite harsh ice storms and winters with record snowfalls. This year I got the best show yet. When I took these pictures, many of the irises had already bloomed, but you get the idea.

Enjoy the purple pretty:

Have a beautiful, peaceful day, friends.

Dandelion Wishes and Bees in My Face

(Writing from June 22, 2011.)

What’s not to love about the duality of a dandelion? I adore these dreaded yard weeds that make themselves known with cheerful yellow flowers, friendly, edible leaves, and puffballs made for dreamy wishing.

Of course I had to teach my son the joy of pissing off the Yard Police by blowing the seeds everywhere in the name of hopeful thinking. This is a childhood rite of passage akin to playing ‘loves me loves me not’ with a daisy, and must be passed down from one generation to the next.

When I first taught the fine art of dandelion wishing to my boy, he was three years old and not quite into the Mommy Adoration phase of boyhood. He was actually still in the temper tantrum-throwing I’m Only Still Alive Because I’m Cute phase.

When he made a wish on a dandelion, he would get a mischievous gleam in his blue eyes and say, “I wish that one hundred bees would sting my mom in the face!” Or something creepy like that – the more disturbing, the better. I would pretend to be mock dismayed on the outside with a smile, while feeling somewhat genuinely dismayed on the inside. There was a part of me that believed his wishes might actually come true. After all, what is more powerful than the wish of a true believer?

But no bees stung me in the face. And now that he is five, I’ve noticed he wishes for nice things. I was walking behind him through our neighborhood recently as he rode on his bike, and he stopped to pick a dandelion.

As he made a wish, he told me he was going to make the wish for me. He blew the puffy white dandelion apart and wished that I would have “…a happy sun, ponies, and a fish that doesn’t ever poop and make its tank dirty.”

He then handed me a fresh round puffball and told me to make a wish for him. I wished that he could have a long, happy, wonderful life, and I blew the seeds into the Oklahoma wind. My eyes watered a bit, hoping so fiercely that my wish for him will come true.

Here are some pictures of him making dandelion wishes, growing annoyed with his mom for trying to get him to look at the camera and smile, and finally riding away from me in exasperation.

I get that “Mom, you are a ridiculous human being,” look* featured in the penultimate photo quite often these days. If you ever decide that you are extremely cool, and wish to be knocked down a few notches in the name of garnering humility… have a child.

*I call it his Death Stare. In fairness, I might have just called him “Chicken Little” before I took the picture. (From the movie. It’s the big helmet. I can’t help it.) He gets really pissed off when I do that.


Nature Seen

One of my favorite things about Oklahoma is the big sky. Since moving here, I find myself constantly snapping pictures of big sky. Looking up at it makes me feel completely insignificant and free at the same time, like I could just dissolve into the atmosphere like everything else, and that would be beautiful. I am Jack’s never-ending water cycle.

The sky here makes me feel connected to the universe while reminding me of what a tiny little grain of energy I ultimately am–not even a drop of paint in the big picture–all at once.

I’m possibly making looking at the Oklahoma sky sound like a bad drug trip right now, but I actually find what I’m describing to be a relaxing blend of emotions. If I can convince myself that I don’t matter, it removes most of my fears. Because if nothing matters, and I don’t matter, then there’s nothing left to be afraid of. (“Of which to be afraid” sounded stilted and weird, sorry fellow English majors…)


I snapped these one evening facing north as a weird storm was moving by. I liked the electric pastel look of it, and the sharp, glowing edges.

I’m not feeling very write-y today, so I’ll stop now, but I hope you’re having a lovely day, pals.


Nature Seen


We got ’em.

I love ’em.

If I have a totem animal, I hope it’s the hawk.

Sometimes they land on our back fence and scare all of the birds away from the feeder, as bunnies scatter and head for the bushes.

I often miss living in California, because of the extreme, erratic, uncomfortable weather in Oklahoma, but all of the hawks I see every day make it better.

Thanks, hawks.

You rock(s).


This cool big hawk was silhouetted against the evening sky, and I had to get a few pictures, shown below from different angles, in color and sepia.