Bud vase

I recall the moment I spotted him—sitting in the grass, cross-legged, the summer heat shining strongly on his field. I had stopped for a moment to rest there, catch my breath, wipe my brow—reluctant to end my time outdoors, but wilting in the sunshine.

Out collecting images—as if picking blooms for a bouquet. Pictures to snip and crop, adjust or discard—arrange into an artful offering for others.
Finding each lovelier than the one before—my hands became full to overflowing.

He seemed unnecessary at the time—an extra, though his small size and spirited manner held me there watching him.
Perched at the edge of a single blade—his world.

Reserved for a day when he can stand alone—
to bring a smile that will melt winter snow.

Click on photo to enlarge!