tarabunnyears:
First Snow
tarabunnyears:
Pinky
tarabunnyears:
Pretty in Pink
tarabunnyears:
Hibiscus
tarabunnyears:
And the ants go marching on.
tarabunnyears:
August sunset.
tarabunnyears:
It is at the edge of a petal that love waits.
tarabunnyears:
Pretty in pink.
tarabunnyears:
Metallic flowers?
tarabunnyears:
Basting in the sun.
tarabunnyears:
Pretty in Pink
tarabunnyears:
Conscience is the window of our spirit, evil is the curtain.
tarabunnyears:
To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.
tarabunnyears:
To be overcome by the fragrance of flowers is a delectable form of defeat.
tarabunnyears:
God loved the flowers and invented soil. Man loved the flowers and invented vases.
tarabunnyears:
A rose is a rose is a rose.
tarabunnyears:
Fun in the snow.
tarabunnyears:
Pretty In Pink
tarabunnyears:
And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.
tarabunnyears:
Break open a cherry tree and there are no flowers, but the spring breeze brings forth myriad blossoms.
tarabunnyears:
I don't see why I am always asking for private, individual, selfish miracles when every year there are miracles like dogwood.
tarabunnyears:
Raindrops keep falling on my head... uh petals.
tarabunnyears:
Do not watch the petals fall from the rose with sadness, know that, like life, things sometimes must fade, before they can bloom again.
tarabunnyears:
Early on an April day, in the land of morning calm, azaleas bloom pink.