This is an oak tree in Abita Springs, near one of our parishioner’s farms. I posted this on Instagram and Facebook.

I’ve driven past if before, but for whatever reason I just didn’t take note of it. And this time, it’s not that anything was really different; it’s in the middle of the day so the light was pretty direct. It was hot as blazes and I wasn’t really paying attention… Then, bam! I careened to a stop, backed up and snapped this from the auto (a very bad habit, don’t start. I was pulled over in Kansas for taking photos from my car, though the officer admitted there wasn’t anything wrong with it. “It’s just strange,” he said. So of course, I said.. “Well what’s strange about it?”

It’s true that most people get out of their cars to take photos, and I usually do. But a lot of photographers will do things like stand on their car hoods, and I don’t do that for any number of reasons. I’m tall and don’t need too, too heavy and my car doesn’t need that. Etc.

Thankfully we ended up having a good laugh and I drove on; but I didn’t take any more pictures from my car for quite awhile. That was in Greensburg, Kansas, by the way, two years after their devastating tornado, and it reminded me so much of Katrina reconstruction. And in fact it was after Katrina that the whole photo-snapping-from-the-car-window thing started, since you often could not get out of your car to take photos. I know, you’re tired of hearing about Katrina, and so am I, I’m just scarred. Deeply scarred.)

I’ve been looking for a good subject to photograph and experiment with wall art, like a blown up canvas print. I’ll keep you posted, still so much to learn – in art, in life, in faith.

Margot Benary-Isbert was a German born author of children’s books, who fled her family estate in Germany after the Post-WWII Russian takeover, and became a US citizen in 1957. She wrote realistically and, evidently, with great depth.

“Prayer of an Anonymous Abbess:

Lord, thou knowest better than myself that I am growing older and will soon be old. Keep me from becoming too talkative, and especially from the unfortunate habit of thinking that I must say something on every subject and at every opportunity.

Release me from the idea that I must straighten out other peoples’ affairs. With my immense treasure of experience and wisdom, it seems a pity not to let everybody partake of it. But thou knowest, Lord, that in the end I will need a few friends.

Keep me from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Grant me the patience to listen to the complaints of others; help me to endure them with charity. But seal my lips on my own aches and pains — they increase with the increasing years and my inclination to recount them is also increasing.

I will not ask thee for improved memory, only for a little more humility and less self-assurance when my own memory doesn’t agree with that of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong.

Keep me reasonably gentle. I do not have the ambition to become a saint — it is so hard to live with some of them — but a harsh old person is one of the devil’s masterpieces.

Make me sympathetic without being sentimental, helpful but not bossy. Let me discover merits where I had not expected them, and talents in people whom I had not thought to possess any. And, Lord, give me the grace to tell them so.

Amen”
― Margot Benary-Isbert

We’re a beekeeping kind of Parish.

It’s relaxing for the beekeepers, and healthy for the bees.

And a few shots of favorite bee flowers also…

Well except for that beautiful rose.

An elegant shrub; and an unfocused shot.

“All who were destined for eternal life came to believe,
and the word of the Lord continued to spread
through the whole region…

The disciples were filled with joy and the Holy Spirit.”

via Acts 13

Our Sanctuary at Easter, 6:00pm Mass…

Joseph is our Church Cat, he keeps the mice at bay.

The Sacred Heart of Jesus. Formerly the home of a Tabernacle; prior to that an Altar dedicated to St. Joseph…