It's that time of the season were Bougainvilleas are in bloom again,
though i must admit i hadn't lifted a
finger - or a water sprinkler- to be responsible for the proliferating bloom and welcoming eye-candy color it presents in our 'so-called' garden.
And i guess summer time is here, for in the past two weeks, my underarm has been profusely sweating whenever i go outside (remind me to use an anti-perspirant deodorant). So it might be safe to say that the sun's rays that oh so subtly damage my aging (and I DO MEAN AGING) skin is bringing out all these popping-every-second blossoms on our Bougainvilleas,
which, i should add, perplex me to
whine and blame the sun for my
uncalled-for wrinkles.
If you are the type of person
that is easily pleased
freckles peeking out |
and can effortlessly smile
and appreciate the beauty
that God is painting in every second
in every surrounding
of your everyday life,
keqs, camera conscious |
then you can smile with me in this pleasant, though hot and humid, afternoon that i decided to trim the Bougainvilleas.
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