Profile avatar
mazebuffalo.bsky.social
Retired, husband, father, voter, dog walker, writer, photographer, pastoral care volunteer (all denominations) nam vet, storyteller and blessed with a sense of humor. and yes, we have a couple of cats that mostly ignore me.
2,051 posts 518 followers 518 following
Regular Contributor
Active Commenter

I remember my sisters making flowers out of tissues and then dabbing a little lipstick on them to make 'em look real and pretty for the decorated wedding car...then of course, there was the marriage...another story...

love is like going to school

the japanese tree lilac drew me in with its blossom and subtle sweet fragrance. it was as simple as that.

split the bill

sorry, but the king would like to be amusef

I have a bleeding heart & this pic reminds me of that. I have a pain in my heart & l'm listening to Otis Redding sing, pain in my heart, in my imagination. His voice, the instruments that were used to push the melody along. this afternoon I was whistling the song, helplessly hoping. it's my sister

from this morning. I almost can't believe I stopped and snapped this pic and then cropped it and now posted it for you to see. I like it and I would like for you to like it for reasons other than what I like it for. Just to prove, that we can see things differently and still get along. Our way.

the anonymous donor

easy to be fuzzy

the shadow knows

the boy is now 10 and the cat may be on his 5th life

the plural of solitary

...see the head and arms folded over the breast...the dead awaiting fusion ... making stuff up as they go along

I am posting this pic because it is contrary to what I believe a good photo should be. It's like going against the grain of my self-imposed value system. But since I made excuses for it and photoshopped it in the darkroom of my heart, I couldn't press the trash icon. I saved it for the green & flow

no longer insidious

a distant family relation

a symbol's distortion

go with the flow

yours for the asking

a lot of drifting occurs during my morning walk. At times I like to reflect on the first couple hours of the day. If I don't make a record of it via a conversation or a jot in my journal it goes away. And if it ever does return it may come back a little more murky. Still, it could become a story..