

Closeup of lily stamen (Super Macro mode)

Image taken inside my pantry
In one of the flowers, a large bee was doing his best to snuggle up to the flower to avoid the rain.
In April, while cleaning the glass door leading out to the patio, I noticed a smudge on the stationary panel. It took me a couple of moments to view it in just the right light to make out the shape. It's a tiny handprint from my grandson, Raine. Who knows how long it has been there. I don't clean my glass more than a couple of times a year, it that, so I'm guessing it must be from about a year ago when Raine was almost 3. So far I haven't cleaned it off. I don't get to see my grandson as much as I would like, so every once in a while I sit down and look at it. It was a bit of a challenge to photograph it, but I think it came out okay.
In May, I gave myself a Mother's Day gift. For the longest time, I've wanted to convert my whiskey barrel planter to a fountain. I looked for kits on the Internet and at garden centers, and settled on one from The Home Depot. It's still a work-in-progess, but it's shaping up nicely so far. I added some artificial ivy and my oldest daughter purchased some cute little "froggy fats" that I perched on the rim of the fountain. Here's a closeup of the little froggies.
Later in May, I took a solo drive out into the desert. I headed out through Queen Creek and passed by the SanTan Pet Cemetery. It's up for sale if you're interested.
And it's about time! Well, I can't complain too much. Living in Arizona is a lot like Spring all year round, except for those three hellish months in Summer. I was sitting on the front porch this morning marveling at how green the trees are and how quickly their leaves appeared.
They seem to sprout leaves overnight. Something I find amusing is there are about eight leaves from last year that have refused to let go. Normally, the trees completely lose their leaves each winter. But this year, a handful have vigorously held on. Click the picture to get a closer look. I also snapped a picture of a pink Hibiscus growing in my neighbor's yard. Whenever I see one like this, I think of my late father, who made a stopover in Hawaii during WWII and fell in love with the Hibiscus flower.
I always thought this odd, because my Dad was a really manly man. I'll never know, but I like to think that maybe he loved the flower because so many pretty Hawaiian girls wore them in their hair.