I have heard more than one person express the hope that whenever the COVID-19 crisis winds down that they want to see kindness and generosity remain. While there are some observable shortages from toilet paper to accepting responsibility, I do notice an abundance of compassion. I just wish it was more contagious.

Sony 7rii, 90mm lens, f/13, 1/13 sec., iso 400, tripod, additional lighting by Lume Cube

With this stretch of predicted seven days with colder than average temperatures and the abundance of blackberry blooms surrounding the property of our house (and probably other places), I realized that this is Blackberry Winter. Margaret Mead said, "Blackberry winter is the time when the hoarfrost lies on the blackberry blossoms; without this frost the berries will not set. It is the forerunner of a rich harvest." It is a colloquial expression used to describe a cold snap that often occurs in late spring when the blackberries are in bloom. The Farmers' Almanac notes that it usually occurs May 10-15. It's a few days early. And I certainly hope that there will be no frost in Nashville, although the forecast is for 35 Saturday morning. What a year this has been! No swimming in the pool yet!

I do have a terrific iris photo for tomorrow!

Iris season is well underway at the Hideaway. Two years ago Judy transferred some iris from Illinois to Brentwood so that today there 12 varieties blooming, a pittance compared to the number of daylilies we have. Here's one taken on the dining room table with the white shade closed, providing a perfect high key backdrop. This setting could be used for other subjects. Ah, some new things to try! Nevertheless, this photo shows just one way of photographing an iris without color. This variety is completely dark which probably accents the effect.

We have spent the last week waiting. Waiting for water to be reconnected to our house, after a leak in the neighbor's yard was shut-off which evidently supplied water to our house. Waiting for the electricity to be restored to much of Nashville, the largest outage in the history of the metro area. After 24 hours we rejoiced when the light over the game table erupted with brilliance, that same table where Judy beat me at Scrabble. She celebrated the rare occurrence. Waiting for some resolution to the coronavirus. Exhausted. But as I told a friend in the midst of our waiting and adjustments, "We have our books, we have our garden, we have each other. We will be fine." Yes.

I took this photo last year with my iPhone of the convention Center in Peoria, Illinois. I had dinner with friends near the riverfront and had walked back up to the hill to get my car and noticed how these reflections and clouds and shapes complemented one another.

The Coronovirus has postponed the annual gathering until mid-August and reduced the meeting time to just one full day (two half-days). I have spent a bunch of days inside this building, so it's fun for me to consider this view from outside and this vantage point that I rarely experienced. I'm also reminded of all the people I miss seeing.

Today is the Fourth Sunday of Easter, and I will be teaching my Sunday School class today online. Thankfully, it will not be recorded as I have little confidence about my presentation. Familiar passages are part of the lectionary today including Psalm 23 (certainly the most familiar psalm, if not the most known biblical passage), John 10:1-10 (assurance of abundant life), and Acts 2:42-47 which describes the early practice of the followers of Christ. Also included is 1 Peter 2:19-25, a troubling passage about unjust suffering, which seems to be included only because of the ending that the wandering have returned to the shepherd.

For me, the study of scripture includes a conversation between the original context and our current situation if we are to understand its relevance. The larger context of the letter is that it is addressed to a community that is poor and suffering, and that the pain has been experienced through no fault of their own. How does one live when circumstances are destructive? Who do we get to blame, who do we get to attack? Can we identify who has caused our current pain?

I hear Peter advising us that the witness of the community is strengthened when we react with love. I admit that there are dimensions to that conclusion that may sound weak and unresponsive to injustice. But we participate and thrive in a community that recognizes the leading of God, that finds strength and mercy in compassion.  In the cacophony of the sounds of destruction and hate, we hear the voice of God calling us to love as we are loved. We follow the Christ who suffered greatly but responded with love. Good is God's intention, not violence, or separation, or evil of any kind. Through grace, we are healed by love. The whole world will be healed by love.

Our irises are beginning to bloom and as I noted before, I have countless images. I find the iris, like the daylily, challenging to photograph as the bloom is large relative to other flowers and it has a compound shape that does not lie in a singular plane, like a daisy for example. The size of the bloom does permit close examination and lends itself to abstract images as the photographer captures just a portion of the bloom. I never tire of the challenge to interpret my feeling of this flower. It's fun.

Yes, this is close! Sony 7rii. 90mm macro lens. I admit I love getting close-up. I have 3 macro lens, extension tubes, 2 different close-up lens that will screw on the front of zoom lens, a reverse adapter so that you can mount a lens backwards.