Musings

There’s nothing original about a three-photo progression. Nevertheless, it can tug at the heart-strings.

So, there’s a bud, and a partly open flower.

And here are several open blooms.

These aren’t from the same bushes, but, duh, they’re all azaleas. And, I was out in the morning after the rain stopped. If I’d been out in the afternoon, the photos would show sunshine.

My favorite bit is the “hat” cap on the bud in the first photo (partly edited out of the image…sorry).

Posted at 7:23 PM | Comments Off on Azalea walk

This is the most arty pollen-rimmed ex-puddle I saw today.

Rather like marbled endpaper.

Posted at 8:20 PM | Comments Off on Nature’s art

I saw the pre-dawn light was…nice…special…and snapped this. Later in the morning, the light…dimmed, with grey cloud-cover…followed by…rain. By late afternoon, light returned. Yay!

Posted at 8:49 PM | Comments Off on Sky-watching

I’m characterizing today as an urban blur. It wasn’t really, of course; it was just a misleading perception. So, instead, I’ll focus on this crepe myrtle bark…so many layers of beige and brown and reddish-brown…like a landscape of multiple ranges of misty mountains…or a tasty, seared slab of salmon filet. [The latter was part of our Friday-night menu. Yummy.]

Posted at 8:37 PM | Comments Off on Use your imagination

Heavy frost this morning made beautiful art on our windshield, where the arc of the wiper met the smear of the last glass cleaning endeavor…such striking geometrics.

Later, at the famous Monteagle, in high-elevation Tennessee, we found the last snow of our trip. It’s all about altitude….

Home safely; however, no late-day photos. Too busy unloading, followed by making dinner instead of take-out (our typical post-trip choice), as we figured every take-out place in town would be slammed on this particular Super Evening.

Yawn. Much love, and good night.

Posted at 8:40 PM | Comments Off on Sunday, (later) day of rest

Dawn.

Milwaukee River.

Chicago.

Dusk.

I associate “Blue Skies” with Willie Nelson, but of course, it’s an Irving Berlin song dating to 1926. Willie’s got some years on him, but not that many, and he’s written some splendid songs, but not that one.

Posted at 10:02 PM | Comments Off on Nothin’ but blue skies do I see

I swear we didn’t plan to leave because it was snowing. But it was snowing and we did leave. Even the minor main roads were in good shape. Whew. We headed south, then turned west, and soon we no longer saw airborne snow.

As we continued west, out of Escanaba, we found sun and it stayed with us…

…until sunset. This is the view from our not-fancy hotel room. And we walked two doors down to a family restaurant that probably was a version of an edge-of-town Midwestern supper club (not really a club) back two generations. I had whitefish and decided to believe it wasn’t loaded with PFAS. I had it broiled, not fried, but got it for the fish-fry price. Love the Midwest.

Posted at 7:04 PM | Comments Off on Friday fish fry

Dawn came clear and cold, and colorful.

From mid-morning on, we heard drip drip drip, and the occasional swoosh of snow falling off the roof. The deck is now snow-and-ice-less, even…although the fields remain totally blanketed.

I’m enjoying being here in a February warm spell.

The title refers to cherry pie worries. Tonight: no pits. It is the final no-pits, as the pie is now fully consumed.

Posted at 8:36 PM | Comments Off on No pits

Breakfast pączki. Tis the season.

Then quiet chatting over pecan shelling.

Out for a walk, we found this pair of venerable birches. I think of birch pairs as not terribly uncommon; I don’t know why there’d be a propensity for pairs in this species.

Finally, we had a two-pie dinner. Chicken pot pie for our entree, and cherry for dessert. With a side of cole slaw and another of sauteed boc-choy. We are living well visiting here, and being treated like royalty.

Posted at 8:39 PM | Comments Off on Ps ending with pi

We can call this a great river, at least within its region. It’s the Huron, in southeastern Michigan.

And this is two Great Lakes cleaved by a great bridge…Michigan on the left and Huron on the right, and we’re on the Mackinac Bridge. There’s no Mackinac Lake that I recall.

Snow is drifting across our road. For us, it’s a great road, but you’d probably think it’s just an almost two lane gravel road. We have a lake, over the hill in the distance, and it’s big, and grand, but not—technically—great.

Posted at 8:48 PM | Comments Off on Greats, and more