If words could summarize the allure of a flower, I’ll try and find them here.

Angelic comes to mind, vibrant, fragrant, stealing impossible hues from the sky as the sun fades away and says goodbye for the day.

They hide in impossible crevices, exist in dark, cool places dappled infrequently by the sun, survive on sunny mountain tops, thrive with the perfect mix of moisture and light we provide.

They don’t stay long-that’s not their deal. But while they’re here, they require our admiration, a second look, grab our attention and steal our breath.

An artists palate is shaped by the boundless collection of tints, tones, tinges-a collection of all the colors inside and outside the spectrum. A writers pen contains the words flowing from the beauty they provide.



Reed Holt

We all have a story. Mine no better than yours, no worse. I write because it free’s my troubled, cluttered mind. Read my stuff and feel me..