Judy was surprised in the garden this week by one of the residents in the yard. I hope this snake eats moles, although this day the snake was spending more time in trees than on the ground.

Another view.

I took a week's break from the blog while the intensity in the nation was off the charts. My photography helps me to see beyond headlines and emotions and spiritual trauma. Friends and family and my faith sustain me. I so enjoy magnolia blooms, especially as they begin to fall apart and scatter on to the petals. I like the texture, and the depth, and the expression of time.

A story begins. And ends. Sometimes before we are ready. The resolution was unsatisfactory. Story threads are left hanging. Characters have disappeared. 

So many dreams have ended. May they be replaced with new ones. So new stories can begin. So we can make hope real.

This is the Seventh Sunday of Easter. Next Sunday is Pentecost. The Gospel Lesson from the Common Lectionary is John 17:1-11. This begins the final prayer of Jesus for his disciples. The air is heavy with anticipation and sorrow and uncertainty. But Jesus prays for his followers in a confident manner, deeply personal, revelatory. And I find verse 3 to open understanding: "And this is eternal life, that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent." What is being referred to here is not perfect understanding. Instead, eternal life is found in relationship, knowing and being known. One of my colleagues yesterday, In-Sook Hwang, made a comment on one of my Facebook posts, which began that she "still longs for the beloved community in which we respect and value diversity and intercultural relationships..." I was powerfully moved to consider how too I long for the future Beloved Community. But every once in a while, one gets a glimpse of respect and justice and love and peace and equality. All hint about eternity that is made real in relationship. And in these days of restrictions and social distancing, the people mightily witness to the love of God made real in the world. And that is eternal life, now and not yet

Is it Loopin or Lu-pine? How do you pronounce Lupine? For that matter, how does one pronounce Peony? Or Missouri? Or Tomato? Issues today result in a more stark, toxic divide I admit I am baffled why reasonable, smart, educated people support points of view other than mine. If we could rationally persuade the other to see the flaw in their loyalty, couldn't we come to some sort of agreement? But we have preferences, and prejudices. I want to believe that there are some things, values, commitments, truths upon which we can agree. And leave our disagreements to lupine, and peony, and tomato.

One of our traditions since we moved to Nashville is to attend the noon concerts downtown at the Nashville Public Library. They begin later in the summer and extend into the fall months. There have been a few difficulties the last few years with parking, but it's usually worth the effort. Last year was a real treat to hear Rod McGaha again. We first heard him perform with the Fisk Jubilee Singers at the Ryman. I used a function in my Sony camera to create a watercolor effect, although I took many photos that day that did not have this effect. I like this one that captures his intensity. And nobody has eyeglasses like that!

This is just a fun photo, or a bunch of photos in one. First, the red emblem on the chrome hubcap indicated that this car is a Plymouth, probably vintage 1939-1940. Plymouth was a division of the Chrysler Corporation what was manufactured from 1928 until 2001. I remember my dad owned a burgundy 1954 coupe in the early 60's. And then the blue automobile reflected in the hubcap is a 1958 Chevrolet Impala. And then of course, there is the self portrait of the photographer.  Behind me is the historic Illinois capitol building with the red dome, built during 1837-1840, and was the site of candidacy announcements of both Abraham Lincoln and Barack Obama. I saw one of those.

So I guess there are more than three subjects in the photo. Slightly more.