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In 1960, Los Angeles shone like a promise. Hotel façades glittered under neon lights, orchestras played standards in glowing garden lounges, and society evenings followed one another like an endless parade. It was in this vibrant city that Meur Morris, a respected elderly businessman, arrived for a series of receptions meant to strengthen his alliances. To accompany him, he hired Sharra, a young woman whose elegance matched the sharpness of her mind.
Sharra was not only beautiful. She possessed that rare way of looking at people as if they were already important before they even spoke. In the hushed salons, she stood straight and attentive, offering Morris a reassuring and distinguished presence. But it was Darius, an associate from Chicago, who first noticed the gentleness behind her confidence.
Darius lived a tidy, almost motionless life. Married for ten years, father of a little boy he saw too seldom, he moved through existence as one walks down a corridor without windows. The Los Angeles soirées were a parenthesis for him, a space where he could breathe differently. When he met Sharra, he felt something inside him awaken instantly.
Their first conversation took place on a terrace overlooking the city. Sharra simply asked whether he liked his work. Darius answered with a banal sentence, then found himself speaking more: about Chicago, about routine, about the feeling of having become a man no one truly noticed anymore. Sharra listened without judgment, with that rare attentiveness that gives each word a new weight.
As the receptions went on, they often found themselves off to the side— in a corner of a salon, near a window, or in a garden where the music seemed to float above them. Nothing abrupt, nothing forbidden: only sincere exchanges, whispered confidences, smiles that lasted a little too long. Darius discovered in Sharra a quiet strength, a way of understanding the world without forcing it. She, in turn, saw in him a tired but deeply good man, someone who had never truly had the chance to be himself.
One evening, after a particularly lively reception, they walked together along the hotel pool. The lights reflected on the water like shards of glass. Darius stopped, hesitant, then admitted he no longer knew what he was searching for in his life. Sharra placed a light hand on his arm and told him he didn’t need to understand everything right away. Sometimes, she said, it’s enough to recognize what moves us in order to move forward.
That sentence stayed in him like an ember. Their relationship, though discreet, took on an unexpected depth. They didn’t speak of the future or of promises. They simply remained present for one another, in this city where everything seemed possible and yet so fragile. Darius found himself smiling more often, looking at Sharra the way one looks at a light one no longer expected.
But Los Angeles was only a stopover. The receptions ended, the contracts were signed, and each had to return to their own path. The night before departure, they met in an empty salon. Darius told her he didn’t know how to name what they had lived. Sharra replied that some encounters don’t need a name to exist. They leave a trace, and that is already a great deal.
They parted without drama, without tears. One last look, one last softness. Darius returned to Chicago, aware that his life would no longer be quite the same. Sharra stayed in Los Angeles, carrying within her the memory of a man who had found, for the span of a few evenings, a space where his heart could breathe.
What was meant to be a simple contract had become a luminous parenthesis. A brief but sincere adventure. A meeting where Darius’s need for affection crossed Sharra’s quiet strength. And in the tumult of the years to come, each would keep this story as a gentle secret, a reminder that even the most monotonous lives can be touched by an unexpected spark.
Looking past Strachur and up towards Inveraray.
Loch Fyne (Scottish Gaelic: meaning "Loch of the Vine/Wine"), is a sea loch off the Firth of Clyde and forms part of the coast of the Cowal peninsula. Located on the west coast of Argyll and Bute, Scotland. It extends 65 kilometres (40 mi) inland from the Sound of Bute, making it the longest of the sea lochs. It is connected to the Sound of Jura by the Crinan Canal. Although there is no evidence that grapes have grown there, the title is probably honorific, indicating that the river, "Abhainn Fìne", was a well-respected river.
In the north the terrain is mountainous, with the Arrochar Alps, Beinn Bhuidhe, Glen Shira, Glen Fyne, Glen Croe, Arrochar, Tyndrum and Loch Lomond nearby.
It is overlooked by the Tinkers' Heart, an old travelers' monument.
Loch Fyne is a popular area for sport diving and fishing. It is also a popular tourist destination with attractions such as Inveraray Castle and the nearby ruins of Castle MacEwen and Old Castle Lachlan.
The village of Portavadie is on the east shore of the loch. A passenger ferry traverses the loch to Tarbert from the slipway at Portavadie.
Dolphins, seals and otters inhabit the loch, and basking sharks can appear in its waters during the summer months. A Ross's gull was present at the loch in early 2007.
and love, to you, my lovely friends!
Thank you for being around as kind, supportive and attentive :-)
Happy day to you all! :-)
LACPIXEL - 2025
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Yesterday I attended the funeral service for a precious cousin on the Hennesey side of my family in Cuero, TX. It was bittersweet... he was a wonderful beloved funny & fun person with a magnetic personality with a precious loving family. He will be so missed as he was to his family what Larry was to ours, the patriarch of the family. A husband for over 50 years, a respected father, a precious grandfather... great-grandfather, an amazing uncle, brother, cousin and a admired friend and neighbor!!! It was reflective for me in that 3 months to the day we had my beloved Larry's Homegoing Celebration... so glad that I could be there to support my extended family and in doing so God comforted me through their love and kindness & reflecting on two lives that were fully lived & completely loved!!! Thanking God today & everyday for the blessing of family!!!
"Our ancestors knew that nature is beautiful and terrifying, that rainbows are courted by storms, that day shares the sky with night, that decay caresses beauty's cheek..."- Tree Keepers Oracle Angie Sullins
The Gray Fox has walked this Earth for much longer then us <3
Thank-you to all who take the time to comment on my photos it is greatly appreciated.
www.facebook.com/faeriemagazine/photos/pb.100064391455847...
Here is a better picture of the lighting implemented. (sorry for the slightly fuzzy picture, needed a darker area so you can see the lighting)
BTW, how many of you want to see the back? If you want, I can upload a picture of the back, so you can see how I did it (very much like Grant's version, almost exact)
Soli Deo Gloria!
~Matthew~
Such a mystical day
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Zaghouan, Tunisia, 2016
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If you want to check this hike, here's the link:
pt.wikiloc.com/trilhas-trekking/zaghouan-via-sidi-bougrab...
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whithout my explicit written permission.
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A late March scene of the Staunton River (Roanoke River) at Staunton View Park in Mecklenburg County, Virginia.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License
July 22, 2023 - Kearney Nebraska
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Late July 2023...
This month of storms was just down right jaw dropping. Why not continue since we didn't have any storms in May or June! Overtime for July is the way I like it!
90% of the time of year in South Central Nebraska is Hot & Humid. It is normally the beginning of our dry season. But not in 2023.
In the path of the Jet Stream that day that forced some severe thunderstorm development over south central Nebraska. We were not excepting anything super severe but a tornado or 2 is always possible this time of year.
Gear Primed & excited about the views I'm going to get for this event that day. I knew they were going to be photogenic.
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I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but things have been a little "different" lately, right? Even my friends on the street have noticed.
Not all of them get minute by minute news updates like many people do. Nor do all of them understand the extent of what is happening. But it is affecting their lives too. There used to be plenty of traffic for Hillbilly to panhandle in. Now some mornings the neighborhood is like a ghost town. Many of the friendly businesses, pallet yards, recycling places, etc... are closed. No segment of the population seems to be unaffected.
But as I drop food, clothes, etc... off in the mornings (or tonight for Levita, Vera, and Squirrel), there is a level of respect. A hug or handshake has been replaced with a virtual elbow bump. Food gets handed out and I distance myself, and they understand my concerns. Nobody gets offended when I say "Sorry, I can't take ANY chances."
I'm not sure if they observe these new social rules amongst themselves, but I appreciate the fact that understand me.
Background from the internet - Canada day poster for 2015, I think.
"(CNN) According to the Reputation Institute, it is the "most admired" nation on earth." I know I'm a fan!
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*All my pictures are ©All rights reserved Neya and you have no rights to use/copy them in any media/context without my written permission. Respect.
Hurray !
No overtime for the first time in three weeks !
ws and I went for a stroll in Central Park and paid respect at the Imagine mosaic.
The white shirt project.
Here the story so far ...
Subway signage set up at Franklin St. to honor the memory of Aretha Franklin.
I noticed it by accident, but it's apparently part of an official campaign.
I tried the Franklin Ave. stop on the 2/3 line, but nothing there. I missed the signage at the Franklin Ave, stop on the A/C lines.
Netherlands American Cemetery and Memorial.
De Amerikaanse Begraafplaats Margraten, in het Engels: Netherlands American Cemetery and Memorial, is een Amerikaanse militaire begraafplaats en monument ter nagedachtenis aan de overleden Amerikaanse soldaten ten tijde van de strijd in Zuid-Limburg, het Ardennenoffensief en in het Roergebied, gedurende de Tweede Wereldoorlog. De begraafplaats is gelegen tussen de plaatsen Margraten en Cadier en Keer, aan de N278.