Tuesday, 4 August 2026
6:13am. Sun’s coming.
11am. This is the same section of the beach as yesterday’s photo. Windy, not calm at all.
Meanwhile, turn 180° and watch the wind making the grass dance.
3:40pm. This tree has among the first pink apples in the orchard. Also, there’s a deer trail straight to this branch, with all grass below flattened by deer-dancing (aka hind-leg ballet feeding).
And, not far away along the trail, milkweeds with pods, and a monarch ghost.
Monday, 3 August 2026
I don’t know how the water develops scallop patterns on the beach, and here’s a pair that perhaps are circling in opposite directions? Maybe that’s not possible: illusion!
Back from the beach, I found these chokecherries (or something else; my guess is chokecherries), well into autumnal mode.
Sunday, 2 August 2026
I’m “battling” the deer for the black raspberries. The empty socket is one that I scored. Yum.
I especially enjoyed the sixty-one afternoon minutes I spent chatting with a far-away friend, watching the lake and gulls and clouds while listening and conversing. And I’m not much of a phone-talker.
Saturday, 1 August 2026
A drippy overnight rain left diamonds on my mesh basil deer-protector.
Late morning, we visited Art on the Lake…saw beautiful artisanal pieces, heard some music in passing, and bought nothing, not even an elephant ear. Our parking place was kinda-sorta under this giant maple.
Tuesday, 28 July 2026
The sun appears.
Sometime later, I watched a busy bee.
I took a beach walk, and ventured beyond the point.
On my return and strolling the beach, I heard squawking above, looked up and saw no branches and caught the sound of departing birds. When my head was tipped back, I heard a plop at my feet. Looking down, I saw this critter scramble into the water, swim a meter or so away from me, then pause, I assumed to catch his/her breath, or whatever frogs do. After a moment, the critter kicked twice to reach the shallows, shown here. Did I startle the bird enough that it dropped the frog? That’s my hypothesis.
Monday, 27 July 2026
The morning began with foggy overcast, if we can use that phrase.
By late morning, the overcast lifted a bit, yet remained.
A very light rain chased (not really, just a more poetic phrasing) me off the beach. Later, it cleared and got sunny. Then, it rained again. Now, it’s overcast again. The plants really need the precipitation, so I’m okay with it.
Sunday, 26 July 2026
On our morning visit to the beach, all was quiet. Very quiet. Pleasantly quiet.
Late in the afternoon, we visited A Big Lake (aka Superior). It was quiet, too, although there was plenty of evidence of the hustle-bustle of kid-fun plus adult activities.
Meanwhile, back in the pines behind the beach, we watched a turkey hen usher her brood through the brush…what I’m sure is a nightly feeding tradition.
Monday, 20 July 2026
My plant app indicates this is in the family Microstegium, native across Asia and invasive here. It’s sure invasive in our backyard. Deer don’t eat it, and therefore promote it by gnawing the native species. No deer in this yard, though.
Thursday, 16 July 2026
Desirable AQI, that is: Air Quality Index, is under 50, but conditionally okay up to 100. Guaranteed terrible for everyone is greater than 300. At the cottage, it’s been 500 for over 24 hours (this capture is from this morning), and 500 is the maximum on the scale. Color-wise, red, purple, and maroon are of escalating intensity, starting at 151. You can tell where the Canadian fires are, in the northwest of this map. If your northern North America geography is sketchy, that water in the north, and east of FireCentral, is Hudson Bay.
Friday, 10 July 2026
Returning to Georgia, we avoided a traffic blockage on I-75 by taking the old road for a stretch, including passing by Lake Allatoona. Long ago, I spent months finding and recording sites on the land around the lake. Eons ago….
Our traipsing later took us by this urban art. I found the multiple figures influenced by a diversity of styles and subjects quite interesting, especially in their juxtapostion. From left, I see an unfinished face? with goat horns?, somewhat bulbous words/letters, a cat with a crown, a looming serpent, a prehispanic central Mexican-ish figure in profile, a step pyramid, a long-haired woman, and a scythe.