Tried for bird outside
but it flew from camera
captured son instead
photography
Who’s laughing now?
I’m in Florida with Zebu, visiting my mother (his grandmother). Today we went to the beach in Honeymoon Island State Park and I brought my camera in hopes of seeing lots of shorebirds and maybe a pelican or two. The only birds I saw were Laughing Gulls and I snapped a total of three photos.
When I saw this, I thought it was a freakish and somewhat unsettling image because it looks as if the head was pasted on another bird’s body. But when I showed it to Zebu (who doesn’t have a great appreciation for birds in general and even less appreciation for gulls because of “their beady eyes and shifty behavior”) he thought it was a great shot.
Go figure.
Squirrel!
In honor of those who struggle to address life’s demands in an orderly fashion without getting distracted along the way . . .
A stitch in time saves nine (lives)?
Lately when I leave something on the bed, Marcel curls up on whatever I’ve left behind. Two days ago he spent much of the day sleeping on top of my basket of assorted workout clothes and yesterday he got cozy with my running socks. I
assumed the theme was my powerful stink. But today he’s thrown me a curveball.
How am I supposed to interpret this behavior?
Friday Haiku
There’s no escaping
contrast between young and old
Even pinecones age
Wordless Wednesday: the banana-box-feline-lounge edition
Unidentified Flying Object
Psst…my guess is Black-capped Chickadee. Photo by Zippy
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious.
It is the source of all true art and science.
~ Albert Einstein
Poppy and Potential Poppy
I’ve spent the last couple hours working on my revisions that are moving along, but are also causing me a bit of angst as I struggle to achieve the vision I have for this middle-grade project. I just decided to take a break to put up a blog post and went to my photo
files for an image. I chose a picture from a couple days ago of a poppy in bloom along with a lovely not-yet-bloomed bud. As I cropped the image, I considered blog post titles and immediately landed on Poppy and Potential Poppy. I’m embarrassed to confess that it took a few moments for this extremely relevant factoid to hit me:
The protagonist in the manuscript I’m revising is named Poppy.
Oy. Here’s hoping we both achieve our potential today.
A tame version of yesterday’s wild
Yesterday as I ran on the open space trails and flax tickled my legs, I wished Zippy was with me. Blue flax flowers are his favorite and they’re at the peak of their bloom right now. Good news for him, our flax is also blooming at home in one of our beds.
Here’s a domesticated memento of yesterday’s trail run.
Friday Haiku
How many guys does
it take to fix a zipper
pre-ceremony?
Iris bloom as work of art
Art is all in the details.
~ Christian Marclay
Tree Legacy
Give fools their gold, and knaves their power; let fortune’s bubbles rise and fall; who sows a field, or trains a flower, or plants a tree, is more than all.
~ John Greenleaf Whittier
Bunny hubris
As I hooped this morning, a bunny came into view. The furry beauty remained in that same spot, calmly chewing and staring into space, despite the fact that I spun and twirled nearby. And then Marcel, sensing something outside, jumped up in the window. The bunny casually glanced toward where the big white cat stared longingly, and immediately returned to her bunny business.
I’d like to emulate that self-confidence during this coming week. Me and the bunny, not overly concerned with matters outside our personal spheres.
Happy day to me
I’m so happy Zebu’s graduation weekend coincided with Mother’s Day because Wildebeest came back to help celebrate his brother’s milestone. We haven’t all been together since January.
Here we were on Friday. The sun didn’t shine much that afternoon, but the happy, proud, and goofy smiles from everyone on the CU-Boulder campus lit up the place.
When stuff works as intended
Soon after starting my vermicomposting bins, I also began using fly catchers. Bell jars with a couple inches of red wine and a funnel duct-taped in the opening. One downstairs next to the worms and one upstairs on the kitchen counter. Fly activity has been low and the wine developed a layer of mold that I thought would make for a trippy photo. I took it outside to photograph it and as I aimed the camera at the jar, sudden movement caught my eye.
A fly was running across the mold. It got up next to the glass and pawed at it as if trying to find a way out. I felt really, really bad. As soon as I’d finished taking the pictures, I released the fly from the trap.
Outside, of course.
One year ago
Last year at this time Zippy and I were in Uppsala, Sweden, visiting our son Zebu. He took us to his favorite place to fika. In Sweden, everyone takes a daily coffee (and pastry) break with friends, family, colleagues, fellow students, etc.
Unfortunately, we went during a non-fika time so the place was empty. Still, it was easy to imagine the rooms filled with students drinking coffee and eating enormous cinnamon buns.
As I write this, Zebu is in Colorado finishing up his third final final-exam. He graduates later this week and one of my hopes for his future is that he always makes time for such a mid-day break. Fika strikes me as a very sensible path to health and happiness.
Friday Haiku
Yesterday it snowed
my toes saw nothing but fleece
Today the sun’s mine
Magpies R Us
I am a magpie. My eye collects details.
~ Patrick Cox
Owned by Emma
Sooner or later we’re all someone’s dog.
~ Terry Pratchett
Maple seed pods: Propagators or Helicopters?
From a small seed a mighty trunk may grow.
~ Aeschylus
And from a helicopter seed, much fun may be had.
~ Tracy
Twas a good night, moon
The sun, the moon and the stars would have disappeared long ago … had they happened to be within the reach of predatory human hands.
~ Havelock Ellis
Friday Haiku
A freakish mistake
photo so blurred Loki’s eyes
green caterpillars
Thankful Thursday
Sometimes the universe gifts you a tin filled with popcorn kernels. And sometimes the gift comes in the form of a writing project that transports you away from life’s challenges and makes your heart sing.
It’s time to break up, winter
You: How sick of the snow are you, Tracy?
Me: Sick enough to use a photo from February rather than go out in it today.
For Savannah
In a few minutes, I’m heading to a memorial. I’ve spent the past half-hour trying to find the words to express what I’m feeling and all I’ve managed is this:
Savannah, you are loved.
