Eyes of Niles

Niles, my friend Cindy's cat, posed so patiently and elegantly for the camera. Gorgeous, the way his pale green eyes caught the spring light.

One of the most striking differences between a cat and a lie
is that a cat has only nine lives.

-- Mark Twain, Pudd'nhead Wilson (1894)

To admire Niles' glory more fully, merely click on the image.

Something of the Marvelous

In all things of nature there is something of the marvelous.

-- Aristotle (384-322 B.C.), Parts of Animals, bk. 1, ch. 5

Funny how you set out to take a photograph of one thing, then something else catches your eye and takes you in a whole other direction. This podlike, mummified ... thing ... was part of a box of potpourri. (Could it possibly be a slice of orange?) As I headed out to the deck, it was literally underfoot, aglow in the light streaming through the sliding glass doors. Outside, I held it up to the muted sunlight, played with the way it cast a shadow, then realized what a terrific composition it formed against the bold wood grain of the picnic table.

Click on image to enlarge.

Clematis Shadows

I can't resist the immediate thrill of posting this photo of the clematis my neighbor brought me last night. She knows I love to arrange the flowers that arrive from her garden in vitamin jars, cans and juice bottles. Late this afternoon I lost myself in admiring the individual flowers with my camera. That rich purple ... those textures and shadows!

I think it pisses God off if you walk by the color purple in a field somewhere and don't notice it.

-- Alice Walker, The Color Purple (1982)

The photo was taken 5/16/10. Click on image to enlarge.

Strangeness in the Proportion

There is no excellent beauty that hath not some strangeness in the proportion.

Francis Bacon (1561-1626)
from Of Beauty, Essays

Thank you to Thea and Mark for the Mother's Day roses, and thank you to Shane for the Mother's Day creature, all featured in this picture. Emma, thank you for trying so hard to get here! The tinyitis "monster bug" was made by Deanne Neiburger of Deetsy on etsy.com. The photo was taken this afternoon, 5/15/10. Click on image to enlarge.

Reading the Sky

Walking downhill on my road at the end of April, my friend and I came across clouds like smudged words in the sky. I wandered ("lonely as a cloud"?) through a book here on North American weather, a thrilling find. According to the photos -- and with no true understanding -- the closest I came to naming them was altocumulus undulatas, under "middle clouds." Well, whatever they were, they were quite beautiful and mysterious. It was like finding an erased message written on a blue chalkboard. What did it say?

The poet is like the prince of the clouds
Who haunts the tempest and laughs at the archer;
Exiled on the ground in the midst of jeers,
His giant wings prevent him from walking.

-- Charles Baudelaire, "L'Albatros," st. 4, from Les Fleurs du Mal (1861)

The photo was taken 4/29/10. Click on image to enlarge.

Speak, Tree

Open to its inner map of color and texture, this dying tree on my street longs to tell its story. There, to the right, is its crackled, knowing eye. In the words of Shakespeare's Macbeth:

Stones have been known to move and trees to speak.

-- William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act III, scene iv.

While searching for this quote, I got hooked on the vivid language and eagerly traveled on, arriving at the following familiar and beautiful passage several pages later:

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act V, scene v.

And now, I suppose, it's time to revisit Faulkner's book and meander through those pages.

The photograph was taken 4/11/10 on my road. Click on image to enlarge.

Float the Earth

Up way too early, I decided to walk up to the pond to see what was happening. I relished that lovely stillness, all quiet except for a mourning dove's lonely call and the distant tapping of a woodpecker. One to lull you, the other to wake you and make you pay attention. Thrillingly, countless black polliwogs were wriggling through the water like three-dimensional commas, or resting on submerged leaves, tiny tails pointed. I balanced on two rocks to get a close-up photo of them, which obviously was just not that great. (At least this time I managed to escape without a shoe full of muddy water.) That beautiful eastern light illuminated the muted April setting, placed the sky in the pond's silver bowl, and set the reflections dancing.

Here are two fitting quotes from Walden by Henry David Thoreau:

"It is well to have some water in the neighborhood, to give buoyancy to and float the earth." -- Henry David Thoreau

Later in Walden he writes:

"There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of nature and has his senses still." -- Henry David Thoreau

Truth.

Click on images to enlarge. Maybe then you can see the polliwogs in the lower picture. Both photos taken 4/11/10.