I haven’t been outside at all today because of the wind. We received the tiniest bit of rain/snow last night, but today is dry, dry, dry and windy, windy, windy. Not a good combination. So, this image and the following quote feel appropriate.
It seems to me like Mother Nature’s mercy and forgiveness have run dry, as we ceaselessly abuse her and take her for granted in order for us to continue our addiction to using fossil fuels. I’ve gotta say, I don’t blame her. Not one bit.
~ Gloria Reuben
There are many, many things I wish would come to pass on behalf of people and planet, but I’m focusing on the personal right now. My wish is for House Wrens to nest in the neighbor’s nest box as they did last year so that I may drink up all that beautiful song* again.
July 3, 2022
Or maybe I’ll be really greedy and wish for wrens to nest at the neighbors’ AND for another pair to come stay in the nest box we hung beneath our deck. Wouldn’t that be something? 💚
*From Cornell’s All About Birds:
Both males and females sing. Males often sing 9-11 times per minute during breeding season. Songs are a long, jumbled bubbling introduced by abrupt churrs and scolds and made up of 12-16 recognizable syllables. Females sing mainly in answer to their mates shortly after pairing up; their songs can include high-pitched squeals unlike any sounds males make.
As I often do on Fridays, I went in search of a photo to use as a haiku prompt and landed on one from a visit to the Rocky Mountain Arsenal National Wildlife Refuge in August of 2021. This image reminded me of childhood when our mother tried to wrangle the five kids for a decent photo that was inevitably ruined by someone flashing bunny ears behind a sibling or making a face or turning away from the camera. Clearly, these cormorants couldn’t care less about me getting a good shot.
And so I wrote this haiku:
many cormorants
but majority headless
group photo challenge
Before posting it I took a closer look, zooming in on the birds nearest the center of the photo, and decided to crop the image to only show those four cormorants. And that’s when I discovered something I’d missed. Do you see it?
A skull!
Holy guacamole. This calls for a whole new haiku:
glossy birds sunbathe
pronghorn antelope keeps watch
sprinting days over
Please join in the fun and comment with your own haiku for this photo!
Bloom + Butterfly + Bee in the garden on May 22, 2020
Not a high-quality photo, but there’s some drama and intrigue here:
Barr Lake State Park April 8, 2021
I get the sense these two are working hard at ignoring each other because they’re already acquainted. Like, maybe they’ve had prior run-ins and now carry grudges. Or maybe they’ve never met, but that pelican with the stabby, knobby bill scares the bejesus out of the cormorant and beneath the surface it’s paddling like mad to get away.
Maybe they’re both new in town and too shy to strike up a friendship. Or maybe that cormorant’s haughty tilt of the beak is designed to keep other birds at a distance.
Maybe it’s really a well-choreographed water ballet that’s supposed to make us think these two dancers are on a collision course when really they end up executing an elegant near-miss.
More likely, the photo is just a fun little image from two years ago that makes me nostalgic for that day.
Today I joined a new friend from Barnraisers and his family for a visit to the Botanic Gardens in Denver. They live out of state and while we’d only met via zoom, he and IÂ connected through the screen. Happily, his spouse and son were equally fun to talk with. I purposely left my camera at home so as not to be rude about interrupting conversations to take photos, but these beauties were too hard to resist and I used my camera phone to capture their essence.
Here’s another clump highlighting the stems which resemble fluffy evening gowns:
Hooray for the beauty of Pasque Flowers!
concrete lookalike
ancient river creation
conglomerates rock!
your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
Things can fall apart, or threaten to, for many reasons, and then there’s got to be a leap of faith. Ultimately, when you’re at the edge, you have to go forward or backward; if you go forward, you have to jump together. ~ Yo-Yo Ma
Okay, mourning dove.
It’s just you and me.
One . . . two . . . three . . . JUMP!
The wind is BLOWING right now. (Per my phone, weather is currently: “62 degrees and blowing widespread dust.”) It’s warm and very dry here in Colorado and one wildfire’s already burning in Park County. My wildfire anxiety is HIGH. Emma’s pressed up against my feet right now because the house shakes and the roof creaks with each particularly strong gust of wind. Making matters worse, tomorrow’s supposed to be even windier than today. Ugh.
I’m going to abort my writing plans and instead play loud music to drown out the nightmare outside while I create some art. Before I go, here’s a tree I photographed yesterday when we hiked at Castlewood Canyon State Park (where the wind had already started). We still had a lovely time.
I went searching for a wind-related quote and found this which feels like a good antidote to my current windy reality and a good match for this photo. Enjoy.
We never look deeply into the quality of a tree; we never really touch it, feel its solidity, its rough bark, and hear the sound that is part of the tree. Not the sound of wind through the leaves, not the breeze of a morning that flutters the leaves, but its own sound, the sound of the trunk and the silent sound of the roots.
~ Jiddu Krishnamurti
profile in courage
confident outside burrow
until whistle blows
South Boulder Creek Trail. March 1, 2022
your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
It seems everywhere I look, people and planet are suffering because the powerful are making decisions that benefit a select few. Sometimes (okay, frequently) I’m overwhelmed by the feel of this Whack-a-Mole reality in which it’s one awful thing after another being inflicted on us in the name of capitalism and Christofascism. However, nature always brings me back to myself and while this photo is from another year and another season, its beauty centers me today.
View from Eaglesmere Lake Trail. Sept 28, 2021
Today I am grateful for the many, many people putting themselves on the line for a better world. And today I vow to remain in the fight because this planet and all its inhabitants are worth fighting for.
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;
what is essential is invisible to the eye.
~ Antoine de Saint-Exupery
I photographed these two Rocky Mountain Columbine last July while camping.
And now I want to go back and sit with their delicate beauty. Instead, I must put on my running shoes and pound out a few miles before tuning into my Barnraisers Project cohort Zoom meeting.
Soon, though, I will be back amongst the blooming wildflowers.
swiveling for sound
lucky rabbit ears hear all
hold your secrets close
July 3, 2022
your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
We took a much-needed break today and headed to Staunton State Park for a hike. This is the second photo I took (the first was of the trail map) and, as you can see, Emma was enthusiastic about the clean mountain snow. I caught her mid-submarine and the snow was flying.
It wasn’t all snow, however. There were also patches of treacherous ice and sections of trail with mud thick enough to suck the boots off your feet. (Almost.) Fortunately, Emma isn’t interested in rolling around in mud.
Here are Emma and Zippy on the switchback ahead of me. A forest feels so different when blanketed with snow and while I enjoyed the entire hike, I was especially happy when amongst the trees.
True to form, we didn’t make it to our destination (Elk Falls Pond) because we ran out of time. But this was our view when we stopped to eat shortly before turning around to head back. Nothing but clean air and warm sunshine.
It was seven miles of rejuvenating happiness and I’m grateful for those hours in nature.
I love me some Spotted Towhees which frequently hang out in our backyard. We often hear them scrabbling through the mulch and leaves as they jump forward and scratch backward with both feet, and over the last two summers they nested in the yard which meant we also got to hear the juveniles making their raspy cries for their parents. Spotted Towhees have a high entertainment value.
These images were taken within days of each other last October and might possibly be the same bird. The only thing I know for sure is that they are not-great images! But what better way to celebrate Twofer Tuesday than with two poor photos of the same subject?
This first one is woefully out of focus but we still get the the slightly punk rock attitude with those ruffled head feathers and red eye.
The second photo gives us a lovely view of the towhee’s back along with a glimpse of its underside. You know, to help with identification. HA. Mostly, it’s a nice shot of our deteriorating timbers and weed-choked pavers.
My mother-in-law once told Zippy that Spotted Towhees were her favorite bird (but then thanks to her memory issues, she promptly forgot that statement.) No matter, I remember and every time I see one, I think of Alice. Sweet-sweet-teeeeaaa.
gravity defied
or watery illusion
either way magic
your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
This morning my phone told me it was –10 degrees outside which would explain the frost and ice on the insides of the bedroom window. It eventually got a little warmer, but was still so cold that when Zippy went out for a few minutes to shovel, he lost feeling in his fingers. I haven’t gone outside today and am exceedingly grateful I had the luxury to make that decision.
In case you’re also enduring brutally cold temperatures, here’s a photo from July 2020 when I crawled beneath the day lilies as they reached for the warm, blue sky:
I look forward to seeing those cheery flowers again.
It’s currently 6 degrees (and according to the weather app, “feels like –6”) so I’m warming myself with a memory of last July when we were camping in Routt National Forest.
Not only was it much warmer on that day, we could also hike on the trails. Around here, it’s been so wet and muddy that I haven’t been out in the open space for a couple months. And today I haven’t even ventured outside, not even to walk Emma. It’s too damned cold.
But yesterday? It was in the upper 50s.
Make it make sense.
You’ve probably noticed how when someone says hello or smiles at you, your automatic reaction is to say hello or smile back. ~ Shawn Achor
January 3, 2023
Yes, but then there are situations in which that other being stares and flicks its tail. How does a tail-less individual reciprocate?
desolate landscape
sudden flamboyant display
color me surprised
Your turn
hit me with a haiku
please
I enjoy looking at photos from the same date in earlier years, just to see what I was about to at the time. Apparently, I’m very much a creature of habit.
Here’s what I was thinking about and photographing exactly one year ago today:
And here’s my photographic muse on January 21, 2020:
Clearly, I’ve got robins on the brain. And what about January 21, 2021? Well, I didn’t take any photos that day. However, tomorrow it’ll be exactly two years since I photographed this Cooper’s Hawk which, by the way, is staring quite intently in the direction of the bird bath.
How about you . . . do you check out your photos from earlier years? And if so, do you have a more diverse repertoire than me?
January 10, 2021
