I put a copy of one of the Impressionists pictures on my wall—the Monet with the woman in the field. I asked people what they thought of when they saw it, and the answers were slightly different, or completely opposite.

No two people read the same book and perhaps no two people see the same painting or picture, and yet we are basically very similar.

We all want our happily ever after.

     Didn't the bee realize the pollen was going to be there for awhile? He was digging in, grabbing so much pollen that when he took off, he dusted the air. Another bee flew away, and again the flakes of pollen fell from his body.
     I'd never seen anything like it. The bees seemed greedy, working as rapidly as they could to get as much pollen as they could. I watched as one flew up and then headed for the woods. I wondered how far he was taking the pollen, and how much of his energy he would use getting the supplies back home.
     I expected he'd done the same thing all day.
     Then, plot twist! Later, clouds rolled in an a light rain started. I imagined all of the pollen being washed off the thistle.
    I should have realized what was going to happen, but I hadn't. Like a reader in a good book, I didn't see what the characters may have knew, or expected, or what may have been just as much of a surprise to him as it was to me.
    Plot twists aren't as much fun in real life as they are in stories, but they can keep a reader enthralled. 
    Happy reading, and Happy writing.

Photo: Bee on thistle garden behind my house. 
    


    
    

I liked the horses. I really did. They did seem like art to me. Driftwood art at first, but still fascinating. That was before I knew they were bronze. Deborah Butterfield is an artist, who if I were to guess, loves horses. 

I wouldn't have known they weren't wooden if I hadn't been told. I looked closer, and could hardly believe what I saw.

The artist assembles the horses out of tree limbs, then takes the horses apart and casts the wood in bronze and reassembles.

Amazing...