The Sweet Georgia Peach

If I had a list of "top ten flavors," I would include the taste of a sweet, tree-ripened, Georgia peach. This fruit could also win first prize in a beauty contest with its plump, fuzzy, blushing form, nestled in slender, arching leaves—quite an artistic triumph. Now let's hear it for the peach!

Yay, peach... You GO, peach... Woohoo... Peaches rule!

Are you surprised by my enthusiasm? Then try this: Peel and thinly slice five ripe peaches. Stir in about 1/2 cup of sugar, then let this sit for an hour as the juice runs out to form a syrup. Finally, spoon the fresh fruit mixture over some good-quality vanilla ice cream. I think you'll become a fan.

A Summer With Frieda

I met Frieda early one summer when she announced herself in boisterous song. This happy little frog had set up camp in a yucca plant between my front porch light and an outdoor faucet. With dripping water on her left and swarming bugs on her right, this chubby girl had plenty to sing about.

Frieda disappeared in the Fall, but she is not forgotten. My memory holds her tiny joyful presence—a bright green chunk of smiling, outspoken, froggy fun.

Portrait of a Wild Sweet Pea

A hummingbird lured me outdoors today with the promise of a photo—then it promptly flew away. Unwilling to accept defeat, I surveyed the wooded land surrounding my Georgia yard, hoping for a subject that wouldn't disappear.

As if by appointment, a delicate wild Sweet Pea waited for me at the edge of a thicket. Often unnoticed by humans, these blooming vines are entwined in the midst of other plants and hidden in meadow brush. So this pretty face, posing against a backdrop of shade, was a wonderful find indeed. Not inclined to flee the scene, the wildflower modeled professionally.

Escape to the Deep

When vacationing at my favorite beaches, I usually play in the water or look for shells along the shore. But once each day, I make a point to search for digital treasure.

This graceful Millipede Starfish was stranded on a sandbar when I happened along with my camera. The creature was in full view of approaching beachcombers who might seize it as a vacation trophy. Providence had placed me there to prevent this tragedy.

Carefully sliding my hand beneath the nine-legged body, I lifted it into the shallow surf. The starfish quickly revived, and I took some photos—my reward for helping it escape. Then I moved it into the deep and out of sight.

Meeting by the Castle

Of all the coastal birds, I think the Great Blue Heron commands the most admiration. Dressed as a reigning monarch, this bird walks confidently among "its people" on the shore.

Shortly after dawn, I met this handsome fellow right outside his castle. We talked as I drank coffee, and we strolled for almost a mile. It's true—I did most of the talking. But the heron was a great listener. Mostly, I praised his appearance and paid tribute to his regal personality. The bird took all of my words in elegant stride as he scanned the water's edge for minnows.

Working Well Together

Eye-catching blue Plumbago thrives at the foot of this elderly tree. The vibrant floral growth has found a backdrop that doesn't compete for attention. In return for its complementary support, the weathered tree has received a boost in status. It is now the "charming antique element" of a landscape composition.

Sunbleached grays have never looked finer, and the blooms present a quality show. Young and old are working well together.

A Tropical Challenge

Auto insurance in South Florida may not cover "coconut damage," so it's wise to avoid parking in coconut shade. Even standing beneath one of these fully loaded palms requires courage and maybe a bit of insanity. All things considered, I was still compelled to capture the best perspective of this tree.

Risking a fractured skull and dealing with August humidity, I plunged headlong into this tropical challenge—loving every minute of it.

Beyond My Reach

In all it's subtle variations, the color of green surrounds us. When held in the arms of this nurturing hue, we go through our days more easily. If God has a favorite paint, my guess is that it's green—with blue as a close runner-up.

I suspect there are more colors in heaven, unknown to us and reserved as a great surprise. Sometimes I try to imagine these unseen tints. But so far, any "pigments of my imagination" have been elusive. If new colors do exist, they are beyond the reach of an earthly mind.

Minnows in the Morning

This young White Ibis led me along a Florida shore for quite a distance one morning. The bird was aware of my presence, and I was careful not to enter his personal space. While foraging for breakfast, he poked his bill into the sand and drilled around for burrowing crustaceans. An occasional school of minnows would lure the Ibis a little deeper.

Oh, to be a shore bird and live in subtropical splendor—free of charge—where food is abundant, and the water is pure delight!

Black tail feathers and brown mottling identify this bird as being immature. The adults of the species are completely white with beautiful ice-blue eyes.

Do You Like Red?

A perennially beautiful "dinnerplate hibiscus" plant is thriving in my back yard. From July to September, I'm greeted daily with several new blooms—large and round and simply gorgeous. These ten-inch flowers open to botanical perfection. They almost look artificial, like the oversized flora seen in Munchkin Land.

Not a macro shot by any means, I consider this a successful attempt at closeup photography.

New Life

Tiny speckled Mockingbird eggs were hidden in the depths of an azalea bush near my house. For about a week after finding them, I kept tabs on the nest and caught glimpses of the cunning Mom and Dad as they tried to divert me from their special treasure.

Sadly, this story does not end well. The eggs were stolen by a predator. I was sick at heart for days. I felt badly for the parents, and I was angry with the wretched, murdering thief.

On a brighter note, the trees surrounding my country home are filled with the song of these prolific birds, so some of their eggs are surely hatching.

Life and death must co-exist, but it's life that I prefer to watch.

Sunflower Potential

This small variety of sunflower sprang up from the seeds I scatter on my back yard deck for the local bird population. Each stalk branches out to present a multitude of blooms. Weeks after this flower debuted, the seeds have matured. Birds are clipping off the flower heads so they will drop to the ground, and then they peck out the seeds.

With digital photography, lighting can be a best friend or a worst enemy. On this morning the light was bursting with unmerited grace, and my ineptness with the new Rebel XTi in my hands was obviously overridden.

Great Spangled Fritillary

Two old fashioned Lantana bushes are growing near my front door. They serve as magnets for butterflies, hummingbirds and bees. I've taken countless butterfly photos, and I never tire of capturing the closeup details—the tiny proboscis dipped into the flower like a straw, and the multi-lensed compound eyes.

Unlike her colorful cousins, the Great Spangled Fritillary wears understated bronze and black wings that flow in a striking design.

Just Act Like a Tourist

A well-kept pecan grove is always a visual delight. If you're ever driving through Georgia in spring or early summer, then do yourself a favor. Turn onto a country road that leads into one of these fields of timeless enchantment.

You can park near the edge of the grove, grab your camera and act like a typical, enthusiastic tourist. While in this acceptable disguise, just relax and walk slowly beneath the towering canopies of green. Enjoy the tall grass and assorted clovers that seems to be a requirement here. And just before you leave, take a minute to notice the lovely red-orange dirt.

Change of Circumstance

I once found a delicate mantis clinging to my front screen door. Deciding that a planter full of colorful blooms was more suitable for the fragile bug, I carefully transplanted her.

This lady had been up late, cavorting with many others under the seductive glow of my porch light. Miss Mantis, however, remained sober enough to adhere to her agenda. She was there to feed on the smallest, most tender visitors.

Now, in her sudden change of circumstance, she would sip from droplets of dew, bask in the glow of sunlit blooms and soak up the morning warmth. Gentle scents and sounds would lull her to sleep while she waited for night to return. And just before nodding off, she would whisper a prayer of thanks.

Distant Cousins

I have a theory that pine trees are distantly related to palm trees. My premise is based on one simple fact: If you stand very close to a pine tree, it looks like a palm. Yes, I admit, that's a far-fetched idea. But I like to use my imagination—just to see where it will take me.

The beautiful White Pines of Georgia have long needles and extra large cones. Every spring, the branch tips produce clusters of small purple male cones called stroboli.

The local squirrels help to propogate these trees. Whenever I find a young seedling, I transplant it to my ever-deepening pine forest.

Garden by the Sea

In May of 2006, my daughter was married on "The Wedding Rock" at Carmel River State Park in California. This natural rock platform rests on a high bluff overlooking the Pacific. The weather was perfect, and even the local guests were in awe of the view. As icing on the cake, the lovely bride strolled onto the scene by way of a meadow path.

On the following day, I drove south from Carmel and took pictures along highway 1 through Big Sur, a 90-mile stretch of phenomenal views. I was in photographers' heaven!

"Garden by the Sea" is one of my all-time favorite photos. It perfectly represents my day of exploration. The Pacific really is that blue! The mountainsides were adorned with hardy blooming succulents, wild herbs and many plants I hadn't seen before.