Window bright
Monday, 18 November 2024
Sometimes stained glass can function as a filter, and make already beautiful light even more gorgeous. [Do I use the word gorgeous too often?]
Monday, 18 November 2024
Sometimes stained glass can function as a filter, and make already beautiful light even more gorgeous. [Do I use the word gorgeous too often?]
Sunday, 20 October 2024
Glacial erratic (taller than The Guru). I think.
Architectural remnant. I think it was the entry to an otherwise destroyed building, slightly modified to have four irregular sides…somewhat like a mini-chapel.
Thursday, 19 September 2024
Most recent binge-watch: “La Grande Maison Tokyo” (fiction). Tonight’s binge selection: “Lost Treasures of Rome” (science/NatGeo).
Friday, 6 September 2024
I’m sure it’ll be warmer again soon, but for now the mornings keep being in the 60s. I’m still distrustful that it’ll continue. Call me a climate sceptic?
I found the word minimifidian among the synonyms for sceptic. I’ve no recollection of ever seeing it before. Turns out it was apparently used by Samuel Taylor Coleridge in 1825—once. No wonder I missed it.
Tuesday, 20 August 2024
While I was bathing/hair-washing, I spotted a lovely effect of the wiggly reflections of the aluminum deck supports parading from me to the beach. This doesn’t capture it at all, but I only took this one shot, and I’m using it.
Wednesday, 7 August 2024
I just went outide and our thermometer indicated it was 88°F. My app indicates 84°F. Either way, it’s also darned humid. But, no Debby rain—whew.
Wednesday, 31 July 2024
Today, I dodged current events after…well, hmm, moving on….
Let’s just say that the weather’s been hot and humid everywhere I’ve been the last two days; however, now that I’m in ATL, it’s buffered by AC. At the moment, I’m being selfish and not green about this.
Tuesday, 30 July 2024
Half-bridge.
Double turbine (the left “one” that’s actually two).
Monday, 29 July 2024
In celebration of MondayFunday, we braved the leg-height clouds of biting stable flies and walked from the mouth of Hurricane Creek to the AuSable Lighthouse. We hoped for a breeze when we got out of the woods, but it was at best intermittent. Still: we survived.
Look at all the shapes and textures…bricks painted and unpainted, metal roof “shingle” overlaps, linear eave layers, and the most eye-catching: the flashing stair-steps.
Friday, 19 July 2024
We drove and drove, and then we saw this milestone. All lanes were open, so we sailed along, then paid the $4 it takes to drive into the Upper Peninsula. The lakes looked glorious and sparkled. En route, we saw geese, a brood of turkeys, a deer, crows and flickers. At the cottage, I can tell a woodchuck’s been visiting our yard (rrr; they are voracious eaters).
Floral complexity continues to abound in the North Country.