Weary of staying home. Tired of not being with family. Disappointed to not have friends be with us at the Hideaway. Looking for photos in the yard. And filled with joy yesterday morning to find opportunities galore yesterday for photography. But I will be glad when touching is allowed.

Tulips are blooming at Cheekwood, but this photo is from last year, 2019 (April 16 to be exact). But we can't get in this year; Cheekwood is closed to visitors because of COVID-19. So we take virtual tours on YouTube and look at our own photos and remember. And plan for next year. Another thing to anticipate besides hugging my family and friends.

Art will help us survive. Although I took this photo in the time before "social distancing" and COVID-19, I think this image speaks to our present predicament. These two people, standing more than 6 feet apart, contemplate this marvelous French painting of a time past of close social interaction. You can almost hear the chatter of diners, the clinking of glasses and silverware, the calling of children, the laughter of lovers, all the noise of an evening out. Looking on in silence, we remember, and long for its return.

Among the first flowers to bloom in our yard this spring is this wild columbine. Judy has transplanted this flower from garden to garden as we have moved from city to city, house to house. But this particular plant had been left behind in Springfield for several years after we had moved to Tennessee. The Illinois house was going to be sold last year and Judy was invited to return to move any plants that she might like to retrieve. So now we have some of our iris, some hosta, and this wild columbine. This flower has thrived at its new location and become a massive plant this spring. I wonder if it's wild any longer. I think it is just glad to be home and tame like the gardener's husband.

How our lives change. Just a month ago, Judy and I left Nashville to meet our friends in Beaufort, SC. We spent Sunday night, March 1, in Waynesville, NC. We left early the next morning to continue our journey. We were eager to get there so we stopped only for gas and the necessary break. No photos on the way, except I couldn't resist when we passed the ruins of Sheldon Church, first built prior to the Revolutionary War. I was surprised to find the gate open as access to the grounds had been restricted due to vandalism. I have other photos, nearly 100, that I took on this brief stop that detail the structure and landscape. But I decided to share this one first because of the significant change in our world that has occurred in the past month. There are several massive mausoleums that hold the remains of the Bull family that were instrumental in the development of the area. I was caught by the signs of life in these monuments to death. I don't know what the future holds in these scary days. But I claim the signs of hope.

Stacking rocks can be helpful as a signpost to a trail, but we encountered similar stacks throughout the Northeast. Most of the time I think of them as an idle-time novelty, but they are increasingly viewed as destructive to habitat for all sorts of creatures. So I find them visually interesting, but...

Three weeks ago this morning (could it be that long ago?), our friends (Mike and Marcia, and Gerry and Christie) had left Quebec City to return to their regular lives, and we were left behind to explore. Judy wanted to go back to the old city. It was raining. There were few tourists walking the narrow streets of old Quebec. But this shop was open for refreshment. Within an hour, the streets would be so crowded that it would be difficult to move, but at this moment. there was time for a croissant, and reading, and snuggling. Oh, so appropriate. It's easy to fall in love with Quebec.