Precip reigns (haha)
Thursday, 23 April 2020
Rain this morning, and more coming.
The creek will rise.
A rose is still a rose…
…even if it’s a big plant with lots of blooms.
Musings
Found objects
Tuesday, 21 April 2020
“Found objects” is a bit of a stretch, although it gets at what I’m thinking…. A chipmunk is not an object. You can quote me.
Artsy rock. Is this an Easter thing, to paint rocks and put them out instead of eggs?
Cement pond. The maroon color is from an Acer palmatum looming over the pond. Interesting light filter.
Another metallic paint study: burnt orange this time.
Fallen façade fiction-writing
Tuesday, 14 April 2020
The light was spectacular this morning, making this rose have gem-petals.
What a color combo! I don’t know what this is named.
Dogwood leaves. With oww-wees even before they’ve finished growing.
Finally, here’s the fallen façade. There’s a stump above, and I’m guessing the growing tree popped the rocks, then the tree was removed…but the tree removal could have popped the façade. Your hypothesis?
Fence ambience, and more
Monday, 13 April 2020
Iris, supported by the fence post after last night’s storm.
Flower unknown to me; white on white.
My hypothesis: tree awarded white ribbon for excellence in lichen nurturing.
Red, red car with ribbon reflection from rear-view mirror, and pollen sprinkles.
Look down! Look up!
Thursday, 26 March 2020
Gutter penny! In these days of heightened awareness of germs, I let it lay.
I think of this as a tulip poplar petal, but that is not probably the proper name for the plant part to a botanist. Which I am not.
I wasn’t only looking down today (so as not to trip). Perfect backlighting on this plastic US flag. It appears to be an all-weather flag, despite that proper flag code/protocol, as I was instructed anyway, means that when the sun goes down, a flag must be lit if outdoors….
And so it goes
Thursday, 12 March 2020
As the unknowns mount, mostly beyond my control, I decided that as I walked I would focus on what I knew in the moment, and make that my stability.
I strolled and opened my awareness of my senses. Sniff. [Sounds hokey…but but but.] Sniff. I discovered I was bathed in wafts of the scent of blooming Malus. Substantial trees and high branches loaded with flowers emitted fragrance that permeated the air.
Lovely. Real.
I found rosemary blooming. I had to be close to get the scent.
Periwinkle aka good ol’ Vinca. Did not kneel down to nose these.
And this azalea was too far for my neck to stretch.
Many pop-culch associations with that phrase. I’m just thinking of the meaning, strictly speaking, and not the myriad ways it has been used. Kinda like focusing on scent while perambulating through a turbulent world.
Wide wide world
Wednesday, 11 March 2020
Old Fourth Ward Park: still no leaves.
Also revisited the Gold Ford. Front right tire is getting soft, BTW.
Clear sky
Friday, 6 March 2020
You see the frog-baby, and you know we visited the ATL Bot Garden. And: note clear sky and sunshine. [We won’t discuss the accompanying windy conditions.]
Found women (volunteers?) weeding and tidying, and this guy, the only guy outdoors, tree-climbing. We saw three ropes in the area, but only one man, so did one guy (this guy) wrangle three ropes, or did this fellow’s buddies desert him for a late lunch break?
Bulbs are champs.
Hothouse foreigner.
Spines! …in the expanded cactus garden.
Temporary architecture. In Spanish (or the Spanish that I learned in rural México), this is: toldo con sombra.
Two-movie trip
Sunday, 23 February 2020
Thought the morning was going to be murky. Wrong. Look: buds!
One last look at salt water. Cold wind. Look: unruffled gull!
Special public art: airport version. Look: I think this mix includes at least one duodenum!??
Lights rule here. Look: Earth!
Nice view of the new awning/cover from the train platform. Great trip; good to be home—these feelings can coexist.
The two movies were “The Current War” and “Parasite.” Enjoyed both.