THIS WILD MORNING GLORY IS NO LARGER THAN A QUARTEROn the hill where I live in San Diego and in the valley below I am surrounded by things of no importance, of no apparent consequence. Today as I went walking in my neighborhood, I deliberately looked for little things that probably escape the notice of practically everybody because they are of no use to anybody. Winter rain and cooler weather promote growth of new grass where there are no cows or sheep to eat it, and little flowering plants, flowers too small and insignificant to be picked and brought inside to grace a table.
As I walked down the hill I reminded myself that there would never be another day exactly like today, that I must not give in to the temptation to dismiss it as just another day like many others. One of the great things about photography is that the act of looking through a viewfinder at the world is deliberate and purposeful. To look through a viewfinder is to want to see, and not just to see but to record what is seen.
This journal entry is dedicated to the things of no importance that are all around me. I am reminded as I write of Oscar Wilde’s play, “A Woman of No Importance.” The point of the play is that the woman in the title is, of course, of supreme important. These little flowers and wild grasses cannot be dismissed as unimportant and insignificant. They are at the very least beautiful to those who take the time to look.
ON MOST DAYS A BEGGAR SITS AT THE INTERSECTION
THESE ROCKS ARE THE BED OF AN ANCIENT RIVER
TINY PRIMROSES NO BIGGER THAN NICKELS
THIS GRASS HEAD IS ANCESTOR TO GRAIN WE NOW EAT
ANOTHER SMALL PRIMROSE
THESE BERRIES FEED THE BIRDS ON OUR HILL
THE BOTTOM OF A TUMBLEWEED
A WILDFLOWER SMALLER THAN A PENNY
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