I got out of bed at 7:20 this morning, which is early for me (I know, I know), because I had a call scheduled with my agent to discuss revising my middle grade novel. The good news is that although there’s much work ahead of me, I’m excited about this book again.
Bee on Fern Bush. August 4, 2020
Before the call, I felt zero enthusiasm. I couldn’t imagine how I’d revise this book in a way that would satisfy my agent’s (valid) concerns while remaining true to my vision. Fortunately, my agent has a keen editorial eye and made several excellent suggestions that give me a path forward. I’m so relieved! So happy!
Now, all that’s left to do is the actual work. HA! This busy bee needs to get revising.
Bunny checking out the vinca. June 28, 2020.
There are many rabbits in our neighborhood this year. As I take my daily walk, I see them hopping across streets and lounging on lawns. They sit beneath parked vehicles and nap in shrubbery. On yesterday’s walk Zippy suddenly asked, “What do you think you’re doing?” and I was momentarily confused. I mean, wasn’t it clear? I was walking.
And then I realized my partner’s question was directed to a rabbit lying a couple feet away from us, smack dab in the middle of the street, ears tucked back, as if that somehow camouflaged it. Which I guess it did, seeing as I hadn’t even seen it. (I’ll add that Emma, our short-legged doggo who’s in a much better position to notice things on the ground, was equally clueless about the rabbit’s presence). That bunny was completely chill. Not at all concerned it might get trampled by two humans and a dog. Or run over by a car. Or eaten by a coyote from the nearby open space.
Actually, I’m starting to think maybe I should adopt that bunny’s attitude.
River walk, Blakeslee, PA. August 18, 2019.
If you look closely
over and underexposed
but also detailed
Irrigation ditch. March 30, 2019.
Silver Jack Campground. July 29, 2019.
quiet campsite inspector
may we meet again
Praying mantis. Sept 8, 2016.
Two compound green eyes
one ear below on belly
wait, what did I hear?
Neatly packaged poop
as should be all of life’s crap
in the meanwhile, scat!
At the end of the day, everything you chase will run. ~ Burna Boy
December 25, 2018
Holding my head high as we head into this new year and decade.
No apologies as I fight for the planet and all inhabitants.
Won’t always look as regal as this bird, but messy is okay.
Achieving a Green New Deal is all that matters.
Mexican Jay. Cave Creek Canyon Ranch, May 16, 2019.
White Admiral Butterfly. Blakeslee, PA. August 8, 2019
outshining the rocks
White Admiral Butterfly
no salute required
October 8, 2019
Fancy insect trick
walking across the window
casting two shadows.
Centennial Cone Park hike with Laura Perdew. July 10, 2019.
Flora and fauna
portrait of nature’s balance
Juvenile Black-headed Grosbeak. Cave Creek Canyon Ranch. May 16, 2019.
Hey, surprise surprise
thought I’d post flora photo
zoomed in and found bird!
Wings of gossamer
make acrobatic flyers
rest stops are needed.
My one last act before stepping away from the computer today is to post this photo of a boxelder bug. I didn’t realize when I photographed it this afternoon that it has red eyes. Guess what? So do I after all that computer work.
Irrigation ditch. Florida, 5.3.19.
So pretty in pink
pausing for admiration
now fly, dragon, fly.
For the first time in the 22+ years we’ve lived here, there’ve been multiple bear sightings in our neighborhood. Maybe not so surprising since we’re adjacent to a whole bunch of open space.
I’m not sure who shat this scat, but I could make a guess. But whoever it was did the deed on our neighbor’s driveway. The brand new driveway she’s so particular about that she was recently out there scrubbing and scrubbing at a few oil drips. So when I saw this pile of berry remains I knew she wouldn’t be happy.
But when the pile was still there the next day I realized my neighbor was out of town. Here was my chance! So I went over to photograph the remains before picking it up. (Note: I did not scrub the concrete). I wanted to get rid of the evidence so she wouldn’t know a bear had possibly come calling. My neighbor isn’t exactly wildlife-friendly. She throws rocks at bunnies that “eat my lawn” and last spring purposely drove over a snake she saw in the street in front of her house. (That’s right, she got in her car and started it up for the express purpose of killing a snake. Thankfully, it didn’t die and I helped it escape her wrath, which she then directed at me). I figured if she found out that a bear might’ve taken a dump on her driveway, she’d either be out front with a cannon or would call in the National Guard or Ted Nugent.**
So let’s keep this little story between us, okay?
** Zippy did spot her outside scrubbing at the berry stain.
True strength is delicate. ~ Louise Berliawsky Nevelson
Unidentified butterfly, South Fork of Cave Creek. May 15, 2019.
Ladybug on Apache Plume in backyard. March 12, 2019.
The older I get, the more I’m conscious of ways very small things can make a change in the world. Tiny little things, but the world is made up of tiny matters, isn’t it?
~ Sandra Cisneros
Soon-to-be Spicebush Swallowtail Butterfly. Blakeslee, PA. August 18, 2019.
Everybody knows what a caterpillar is, and it doesn’t look anything like a butterfly.
~ Lynn Margulis
Zippy and I ran this morning and just as we finished we encountered this Wooly Bear. I dashed inside for my camera to document our meeting because I haven’t seen a Wooly Bear in many years.
And apparently I never took the time to learn what Wooly Bears become because it came as a complete surprise just now when I looked up “Wooly Bear caterpillar” and discovered my little friend will turn into an IsabellaTiger Moth. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a photo of one of those. You can see it here.
Wishing everyone a transformational Monday!
darts quickly around flower
buffet of pollen.
I took this photo with my phone last week and just rediscovered it.
Milkweed plants conjure up many childhood memories. Striped caterpillars with black antennae. Green chrysalises. Monarch Butterflies. Sticky “milk” on my fingers. Splitting open pods to reveal the silky seeds. Throwing said pods at my brothers.
I was so happy to spot this plant and only wish a Monarch Butterfly had also been present to complete the tableau.
So much of our current reality causes me outrage, fear, and anxiety. It’s gotten so that I struggle with getting out of bed in the morning. But today I’m grateful for a new writing project that brings me happiness.
Yarrow’s Spiny Lizard. Greenhouse Trail, Cave Creek Canyon. May 14, 2019
I’m always at my best when fully immersed in a project, especially when the subject matter involves the glories of our natural world, and so this dapper lizard feels like the perfect guide for today’s work.
Pop out of burrow
transition from dark to light