Indifference is isolation. In difference is texture and wonder. ~Edwin Schlossberg
As some of you have noticed before (hi, AC!), I tend to develop a theme around a small collection of photos, from time to time. This is one of those times, and the theme is texture.
I used to be Snow White, but I drifted. ~Mae West
After as snowstorm, when all was said and done, layers of snow combined with wind created this frilly effect.
A squirrel is just a rat with a cuter outfit. ~Sarah Jessica Parker
Rough branches, prickly needles and the soft little stubble of a red squirrel's moustache and whiskers.
I have a son, who is my heart. A wonderful young man, daring and loving and strong and kind. ~Maya Angelou
And speaking of stubble, this contemplative beard-laden face belongs to my younger son. We were at a family wedding where the lighting was blueish. At that particular moment, perhaps the music was too. 
How memories lie to us. How time coats the ordinary with gold. How it breaks the heart to go back and attempt to re-live them. How crushed we are when we discover that the gold was merely gold-plating thinly coated over lead, chalk and peeling paint. ~Henry Rollins
I suppose it would take a fair bit of work to get this place in shape again.
If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then give him only two of them. ~Phil Pastoret
This beauty is Marzy. I met her while visiting friends a short while before Christmas.
I had always felt that mittens were a few steps back on the evolutionary scale-- why, I wondered, would we want to make ourselves into a less agile version of lobster. ~David Levithan
Out for a walk with my previous neighbour, Caroline in my old neighbourhood last March, I saw this fuzzy bunny mitten waiting patiently for its owner to find it.
Precisely the least, the softest, lightest, a lizard's rustling, a breath, a flash, a moment - a little makes the way of the best happiness. ~Friedrich Nietzsche
And this smile belongs to Caroline. So does the cute and scaly little guy on her shoulder. I took an immediate liking to him... right from the gecko. 
Be like the bird that, pausing in her flight awhile on boughs too slight, feels them give way beneath her, and yet sings, knowing that she hath wings. ~Victor Hugo
This delicate imprint in the snow appears to be from bird wings – most likely a blue jay. I suspect that it was about to land in the fresh snow but changed its mind in mid-descent.
Beneath the rust and grime which dulls the shine of our weathered hearts, joy patiently waits to be rediscovered. ~John Mark Green
I wonder if anyone will buy this rusty old beauty and give it new life?
A meow massages the heart. ~Stuart McMillan
These are Oliver's watchful eyes. He's about ten months old and belongs to my neighbour, Carol. I checked in on him a couple of times a day while she was away on holidays, recently. He's quite the cuddler, and never stops purring the full time that I'm with him – about a half hour each visit. I suppose that he continues to rumble for a while after I've closed the door behind me.
At the end of our lives we hope we will look back and, like an incense stick completely burned away, will have poured forth all our fragrance into the world. ~Prem Prakash
This last bit of texture is a macro view of a skinny stick of incense. The scent is called Super Hit, and it's one of my favourites.See you next time with more photos.
