"Under Construction"

  

An engineering feat
Endless miles of concrete
Tower in expectation
Growth, growth, growth, growth, growth
Tons of debris dumped behind screens of decency
Profit and progress mangled and molded into prophecy
More is only more
Underneath everything rises the desperate stench of fear
Too much, too little, too late to matter
Under night’s protection push onward and upward
Pretending sustainability is wrapped into the core
Change is good
Until it isn’t 

 

Copyright 2024 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“My Favorite Field of Flowers”

             Last year, driving under Loop 1604 to head for St. Hedwig, new construction marred the once open farm land. Gas stations and fast food restaurants flanked the exit while signs for a new housing development promised homes starting at $200, 000. The road into the complex and three or four skeletons of large homes hinted that “progress” invaded our treasured rural area. For many springs, we’d take off on Saturday or Sunday mornings for a thirty mile loop from our house through St. Hedwig and over back roads until we circled back to Live Oak. During one of these treks, we discovered a stretch of road with a windmill and an endless field of flowers.

            This year, more signs of San Antonio sprawling east scarred the area. My heart hitched a beat or two as our usual route detoured due to construction on I10. The bare-boned houses from last year now stretched to the right in multiple streets of completed homes—all bold, ugly squares that scarred the landscape. I worried that my favorite field of flowers would now be plowed under.

            A turn down one road that winded eastward took us to the field and relief flooded my soul. The windmill still stood against the blue morning sky with its flowers a colorful blanket below it. I felt confident that the second wildflower spot, further down the road, would stretch along the lane. No new construction blemished this part of our drive. I don’t know what the future holds, but for now gratefulness fills me that this field of flowers remains untouched.

Copyright 2023 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman         

 

"Wildflower Tradition"

            During our first year of marriage, David and I invested our limited funds into two sleek, 10-speed bicycles and a used Pentax 35mm camera. Both purchases provided us with endless, low budget possibilities. With our bicycles, we could explore the entire San Antonio area by either heading into town or riding to the outskirts. If we had a little money, we rode down to the San Antonio Zoo, purchased two tickets to spend the day on hunting the perfect shot of a snow leopard or howler monkey. On weekends when we were truly penniless, we traveled to parks or headed down Loop 1604 to duck under I10 and loop through small towns like St. Hedwig. We took our camera everywhere. At that time, every click of the camera cost money for developing photographs. We diligently wrote down F-stops and ISO numbers in a small notebook as a record to compare to the final print. We strove to make every click of that camera count.

            One March morning, we biked over to St. Hedwig and discovered vast fields of spring wildflowers. I remember kneeling down into the dew drenched grass to take my first shot. That picture started an annual tradition for us. We broadened our journey when we shifted to driving our car. We welcomed a digital Cannon Rebel Ti into our lives. It took months before I embraced the freedom of firing off as many shots as I wanted after so many years of hoarding my film, but I grew to love the abandon I feel on these new creative quests.

            Once I began blogging, my tradition of taking wildflower pictures shifted to sharing the results with not only friends and family, but with readers from Europe, Australia, and even Asia.

This year, we did our usual trek to St. Hedwig and to our Live Oak Park. However, we added a new location to our tradition with Wildseed Farms in Fredericksburg, Texas. (https://www.wildseedfarms.com/)

            I think you’ll love the newest flowers that I can now share!

Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman