Pink
Unnamed flower
Pink Begonias
Red rose in a sire dictionary page
I always thought photography in an art. But it’s a skill. The art is looking through a frame and see what others could not. We always see flowers, of all kinds, potted and wild, real and fake, beautiful and pale. But what we usually fail to see is how they are alike us, sometimes withered, sometimes bright and shiny and sometimes not real. They are full of colors, of diverse colors, covering the whole spectrum. And you could find them growing in varied places, And you would wonder how they are so beautiful irrespective of it.
Pink
I clicked this one in local farm store, potted, kept on a wooden bench. This pink flower was different. Not too bright and not too dull. Just existing. In its own corner. Still the contrast it created with the dark green leaves, made it worth clicking.
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Unnamed flower
This one I clicked in Niagara, Buffalo. It was a tiny thing struggling with the currents leading the almighty falls, trying to sustain itself. Just like us! And it was so beautiful. Purple and yellow. Boy, flowers do know some things about being fashionable. It was the only flower in the bunch which wasn’t dying. They were so close to water, yet drying. Excess of somethings isn’t always good. Is it?
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Red rose in a sire dictionary page
Here you have a vintage looking rose on an old dictionary page. In the wide family of flowers, rose has an unique place. And a red one is a symbol of love, an emotion that holds us in good and bad times. It reminds me of that rose in Beauty and the beast. Ah I am a sucker for romance. You will say it is just a drawing. I say why does it matter. A rose is a rose. I feel happy when I see it. I bet you too. Haven’t we been unreal from time to time. Flowers also has a right to be. All that counts is that that it is beautiful even in its simplicity, reminding you of a beautiful time.
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Pink Begonias
This was in the same farm market. I guess I had a thing for pink that time. They were beautiful and silent, minding their own business. And who does not like hanging planters. It made me feel like I am wondering in an European street. I like this picture more due to the blurred background. The path is beautiful whether you know or don’t where it is leading you to. Doesn’t it all that matters?
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-P