I'm enjoying having a phone camera again, albeit a limited one. The iPhone camera spoils you for anything else, but at the moment, the phone already on hand and paid for is the phone I need.
A lazy day so far today –– I've just fiddled around, not walked, not really written anything yet. But I have taken some shots of the front garden as it is right now, at the height of summer, tipping over into the dog days.
Obviously the Rose-of-Sharons (or Roses-of-Sharon?) are blooming, as are my mammoth sunflowers.
I think these very pink ones in the foreground are new. All of these bushes are the children of one now-dead old Rose-of-Sharon that was here when we bought the house; its blooms were a sort of standard magenta/purple. I have some that bloom like that, then some that are white with hot-pink centers (like the one pictured at the top), but now we have these sort of blush-pink ones as well. The genetics, about which I know nothing (because I really don't know the whole spectrum of possible Rose-of-Sharon colors), fascinate me. Anyway, they're pretty, and the bees love them.
Black-Eyed Susans, pictured here with some mountain mint:
The garden overall is loved and visited by many bees. I've been gratified in the last couple of years to see not only bumblebees and carpenter bees, but many other, smaller bee species in my garden, including some honeybees.
I have started meeting delivery people at the driveway –– though I have whacked things back to widen the front walk, it's still pretty bee-ful, and I understand that some people don't want to come up it. You can park along the street in front of the house and come up the front yard, which is wide open, but people don't always know this. I think I'm going to have to put up signs . . . or else get serious and build an actual front walk down to the street. This is my eventual dream. The mailman does get it, and always comes up the yard that way, but delivery people often don't, for which I cannot blame them. We are none of us mind-readers, and nobody really wants to be stung by bees. I can't think when I have been stung, wading around the garden, but I'd hate for the person who did get stung to be some poor gig-economy worker doing their job.
Well, really, it's not like I want anybody to get stung. On the other hand, I do wish to be an oasis for bees.
Wearing Camellia as a jumper today over my thrifted army-green Gap cotton tee. This camera does not do distance well at all.
But it's okay for selfies up close.
I'm interested in how my eyes change color, depending on what I'm wearing. Here's a comparison shot of me yesterday, in Camellia alone, and today, in Camellia with the green tee next to my face.
And . . . well, I don't know. The light's too different to be conclusive. Actually, the color change doesn't seem as significant as I had thought. Maybe my eyes look a little greener on the right? But not by much.
I do think, though, that everything I was going on about yesterday, regarding your own coloring as a guide to what looks good on you, holds true. Paying attention to your own colors –– tones in your skin, eyes, hair –– really does help you identify colors that naturally flatter you. My eyes are a fairly indeterminate color, but I can see what sort of blue or green tones make up my eye color: not clear, bright, jewel colors, but softer, grayer, more muted tones in blue or green. The blue of the Camellia is just soft enough to work well on me (though blues generally play pretty well on my pink-toned skin). Greens are trickier – but this one works, because it does pick up the note of muted gray-green in my eyes.
NOTE: This makes me wonder whether I ought to consider a cool-olive Sierra as a reward dress, should they still have that color in my size when I'm ready for it. I'm really afraid to commit to a green dress without seeing how that green looks on me (and I know, I know, their customer service is great, and I could return it, but getting things into the mail on time, or ever, is not one of my superpowers). That color could either REALLY work for me, or REALLY not work. I don't want to rule it out conclusively, but I dunno. If it's too yellow, then I'll look like death. Charcoal gray would be just as versatile and flattering –– and a safer bet overall. I think my eyes might be too blue to play well with that shade of green, if that makes sense. That dress seems to look really stunning on people with distinctly olive/hazel eyes.
I'm not wearing makeup in either of these pictures, and I have not used any filter or lighting enhancement. The shadows in the shot on the right are not really being my friends. In neither photo is my face perfect –– you can see the lines. I don't mind that you can see the lines. You can see the rumpled skin around my eyes. Again: I don't mind that. This is a face four months and a few days shy of 57. I have no interest in pretending otherwise.
BUT I really like both these pictures. My bare skin has color and looks fresh. My eyes stand out (even behind glasses). My lips have color. I'm still an almost-57-year-old woman who has not been nearly careful enough about sun protection. But in these photos I see myself as fresh and alive and healthy and pretty. Some of that is a function of being alive and healthy, obviously. I'm an active person who eats pretty well and has no known health problems –– for which, Deo Gratias. But I'm also wearing colors that make the most of what I have, because they echo and amplify what I have.
AND I'm cool, comfortable, and ready to do whatever I can prod myself to do today.
NOTE: Camellia was a little wrinkled and stretched from having a penny hair-tied into her front for two days, but when I took her off last night, I spritzed her pretty thoroughly with a mister of water and let her dry overnight. Today she was back in shape, wrinkle-free, and ready to go. She still smells fresh, as in out of the package, despite daily wear in hot weather all week long. I also misted and scrunched my Day 3 hair to refresh it –– washed it Wednesday, but have worn it up continuously since then and wanted to let it be loose today.
Have you had enough of my EYES yet?
(earrings courtesy of my darling children-still-home, on my last birthday).