Tread Softly - Bleeding Hearts

Tennerezza pura! Cheers to that, Gail! PDE

the darker side of Gail Anthony...

Beautiful creative work Gail. with wonderful soft colors. Take care,............Patsy

Gail this is so well composed and a great title. The soft pastel colors work well with the title whether on purpose or intentionally. Great reflection as well. A real work of art my friend...............Best Always, Holger.......... I love Jamies' comment.

You've got a way with subtle colors and interesting details. The veins in the top leaf particularly intrigue me with its texture. Your title is jarring and begs the question, when we see "bleeding hearts," do we tread softly or stomp on them as easy marks for the baser parts of human nature, particularly with the other meanings of "bleeding hearts," such as "bleeding heart liberals." Well, late at night, and my mind wanders, but the imagine is soft and pleasing.

Hi Donna, thanks so much for your visit and interesting thoughts shared. Actually, when I posted the image and usually when I think of 'Bleeding Hearts' I only think of the FLOWER - because it is so beautiful. For me it is a thing of such exquisite beauty. I marvel at it's creation. When I pick one and even feel it in my hand - I am amazed at it's structure. For me it is Divine, it is a Gift - to have a flower so beautiful that I can actually take images of and put in a Bouquet - is thrilling to me. I think one of the reasons I like it so much is because when I was about 5 we moved into a house that had a large flower garden out back. I recall this wonderful morning - I was out in the garden with my Mom - there she was in her cotton house dress, it was not particularly a thing of beauty - but as I crouched down and picked some Lily of the Valley. I saw a lovely ray of sun stream down through the 'wispies' of her hair. She was humming a song - she must have only been about 24 back then. We were exploring this garden for the first time since moving in. She was telling me the names of all the flowers and when she directed my gaze at the bleeding hearts, they looked like 'jewels' to me. From that moment on, our garden became this treasured place where I would go and just enhale all the aromas - my Mother and I - yes it was 'our ' place. For only us two would be careful enough not to step upon these 'jewel' coloured flowers for fear of damaging them. I recall, especially, my Mom telling me to be extra careful around the Bleeding Hearts - they were 'delicate beauties' that deserved our careful attention, hearts that should never be harmed or broken. I probably sound DAFT. But I had a big imagination - and this was our 'Secret Garden' - a place where my rough housing 2 brothers could never enter. Perhaps I wanted Mom all to myseslf - and this was the only time in the day when she was not busy Cooking, Washing and hanging clothes, making meals or sitting almost too exhausted to talk. The other time I had her to myself was when she came to my bedside at night to say my Prayers with me. I would hold her soft hand in mine and beg her to stay a wee bit longer after my Prayers were said........just so I could hold her hand. I had a good Mother and she taught me all about delicate bleeding hearts - the treasures in our garden.