The Lotus Part Four

You faded from my sight and I gathered by the shore, longing to see you once again. Hoping that I had simply missed you in my passing. You hadn't disappeared but had drifted out of sight as many things have done in the past.

It was to no avail, you are gone and as the days drifted by I stop searching for you, although I remember the vibrancy of your petals. I search the water for other flowers but they don't appear...until one morning, only a few days before I leave your lake behind.

That morning, I hear the kids cry out, "Mom, your flowers are back."

I look out into the water, and it is a celebration of white floating on the dark, inky water. I smile at the sight and race for my camera, ready to take the pictures but as I do, I realize that these are not my flower. My flower has drifted down into the pond where it had come from and while these flowers are beautiful, there was something delicate about my flower.

There was a beauty of a lonely flower, the only splash of white on the otherwise dark surface of the lake and that solitude was what had drawn my thoughts.

I still took the photos, but these flowers did not capture my imagination like my solitary lotus and I only took photos for one day. And these are the photos that I will end my Lotus journey with you.

A Lotus Emerging:


One that caught my eye:





And another one:


And another:

The Lotus Part 3

Silence fills the world around us and I focus on your beauty. Is it me or is your beauty fading? I wonder if it will last until tomorrow or if I will come down the stairs and find you gone; your secrets disappearing with you. But that is for tomorrow and today I capture your silence with my lens; your secrets still hidden away.

The kids say that you are mine but you remain out of reach from me. If I could, I would wade into the water and pluck you from it so I could carry you with me but I cannot bring myself to draw you away. You are where you belong and I will continue to paint your image across my mind as I click away with my camera.

The lotus for the third day, unfortunately, it was the last day that I could photograph her. Funny, I started calling the flower a her at about the same time the kids started calling it my flower. The following day, the flower was gone and I had to turn my camera onto other things.

Here are the final photos of my lotus before she closed her petals one last night.

The Lotus Part Two

You drift there, alone amongst the leaves, almost overlooked in the dark water. The clouds cover the sun but yet you reach out your petals and grasp at the light that trickles through. You are like a ghost upon the water, your delicate beauty a bright spot upon the mind. I am drawn to you, wondering if today a new secret will cause the pond to ripple beneath you as it comes to the surface.
Day two of photographing the lotus started with a very overcast day. I tried a different angle and whenever I tried to get a good shot, a wave would cause the ripple on the surface. Made photographing interesting since I was perched on the swimming dock and bouncing with every wave as well. The water looked almost like ink today when I was taking the picture.

Walking with Ghosts

The road that we turn onto dwindles down to a one lane dirt track and we glance around to make sure that we are on the right road. A sign up ahead, barely visible in the green expanse of the encroaching swamp, reads Umphraville with an arrow pointing off into the wilderness. We don't say anything as the van jumps and sinks over each bump and into each pothole in the road. "I guess they don't get out to do road work very often," I say.

James rolls his eyes at me and turns to peer through the green darkness that has enveloped us. Through the canopy, we can just make out the piercing blue sky but down where we are, only a light shower of sunlight breaks through the leaves of the canopy above.

It is enchanting and I stop the car to take in the sounds and feel of a forest alive. I close my eyes for a second, unafraid that some random car will collide with us and breathe in the damp air that is drifting through the open window.

The sound comes to me layers. The rustling of the light breeze in the leaves. The symphony of songbirds perched in the branches. The hum of the insects flying around the van. The crash as something large moves through the forest. It is both exhilarating and peaceful and everyone in the van is silent as they take in the forest.

I open my eyes and scan the forest, looking for whatever made the crashing sound but all I see is the dark green of a healthy forest and the winding brown of the forest road that is slowly being consumed by it. I start forward again and I finally give the first hint of where we are going to the kids, "Keep your eyes open," I say, "We are close to the ghost town."


Looking in the rear view mirror, I watch as their eyes widen and they begin searching the forest around them. "It just got 10 degrees colder in here," Gabriel says, "That means were close because it always gets colder when you are close to a ghost."

I smile and remain silent, listening instead to the kids talking about the ghosts. Their voices are full of excitement as they begin to imagine the ghosts around them. I remember those days and I remember spending my childhood running through forests much darker than this. I remember the feel of the forest; the way that it had always felt like it was watching, its breath baited as though it was simply waiting for me to discover its secrets.

I wonder if the kids feel the same way as they sit there waiting for the ghost town of Umphraville to appear.

We turn at a fork in the road, heading left and up a steep hill. At the top, the road ends at the start of a hiking trail and I pull off to park. Besides us, an opening in the forest shows a clearing and a large, weather stained cross stands in the center of it.

"This must be it," I say and we all pile out of the van.

It may be my imagination but it is as though the forest has fallen silent as we walk closer to the cemetery; one of only a few things left of the town of Umphraville. A feeling of sadness washes over me as we walk through the gates of the cemetery and realize that these people are almost forgotten and only a few people come to keep it tidy.

The forest has nearly engulfed the road of the once thriving town and the only people to visit it are hunters and the random tourist looking for a scare. I wonder how many people have laughed and joked as they walked around the small cemetery and while I try to do it once, I just can't bring myself to do it.

Instead, we all walk around in silence, occasionally saying something about a marker or how sad it is to see a baby of only 3 months old buried at the site. The kids are respectful but you can see their imaginations racing as they glance around the cemetery.

After a half hour of wandering through the cemetery, we start out on the hike. James tells Michael he can be as loud as he wants so his voice will scare off any large wildlife. I laugh and start talking to Michael to keep up his chatter (if you didn't know, Michael can be very loud).

We end up in a field and it is a stark contrast from the cool forest that we had just left. Up ahead is one of the few buildings left of Umphraville itself and we explore it for a little bit. The feelings of the cemetery slowly lift and we start to simply enjoy the exploring until the deer flies come out and start to pester the kids and James so we decide to head back. Or rather, James and the kids run to the van as I slowly walk back since the deer flies leave me alone for some reason.


It was a nice trip and we took our time driving back down the road, stopping every little while to listen to the forest again.

Like most of the other posts, here are a few pictures that we took of Umphraville.