Monday, 9 March 2020
I can almost forget the substantial stock market drops around the world when I petal-gaze.
I also find zen in the quiet of still(ish) waters and bald cypress knees.
However, at the same time I find the water-green worrisome: is an algae bloom coming on?
Sunday, 8 March 2020
This is a very rare sight in our neighborhood. On the street, no less, and not in a driveway. A desperate driver/mechanic?
On the other hand: sun and flowers.
Title refers to a common nickname, albeit not unique, for my ancient Ford van. It was ripped from the vehicle’s taunt/description/jeer/catcall: “It rolls down one hill and c’n’ardly get up the next.” Also: slightly Cockney.
Saturday, 7 March 2020
Returned to the park to work on photography skills—and get a dose of vitamin D, of course. Lovely Malus petal cloud.
Found the heron once again in residence. The Guru summoned all his photo-skills to focus on her/him through the vines and branches.
Soon, the bird had had enough, and flew to a high branch on the artificial island. S/he’s on the left side of the tree, just to the right of center in the image. The ducks are not amused.
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.
Thursday, 5 March 2020
Established magnolia trees send up a profusion of suckers under the shelter of their leaves and branches. Dunno what the red machine is; lost leaf blower?
Rumor has it the rain will be gone tomorrow! Yay!
Wednesday, 4 March 2020
This moss is shaded much of the growing season, so it’s getting a jump on its 2020 progress now that it’s warm enough.
Tricked once again: this is winter jasmine, not forsythia. With a holly-leaf background. Did you know there are twelve holly species native to Georgia? I read that somewhere…oh, in Athens at the BotGarden.
Tuesday, 3 March 2020
I was antsy and left the house shortly after the rain stopped; that’s why it was still flowing in the gutters.
The rain brought down a good crop of camellias under this bush/tree.
Loving a new sighting of purple crocuses; lovely color.
Monday, 2 March 2020
Early on, sunlight appeared, colorfully.
Then, things became grey and overcast. Never seen this stockinged grey cat before, yet he appeared today in my regular activity area. I heard his bell first. Tag indicates he’s named Hugo. More of a mule name than a cat name, but still okay.
We must be due for rain; this birdbath (previously featured in this space, I admit), was totally dry. By an hour later: rainfall arrived…and is supposed to continue off and on until sometimes Thursday. Sigh.
Oh, the title…I realized as I walked that I was hearing more birdcalls, more calls and more species…even the one I call the Rarebit Bird, because the call sounded like that to me when I noticed it and I was, I dunno, four big years old…and still sounds to me like “Rarebit.” I did identify the species a time or two, then forgot each time, but I need to do so again.
And the bees part…I walked around a corner and could smell smoke, not dominant like a house fire, but more ephemeral, as from a fireplace. But the odor was a bit off for firewood, although I cannot describe it. I looked high for a white wisp; nope, but a movement caught my eye. A man stood on a nearby porch wearing a funny outfit, with a strange and lively box at his feet. I looked closer. A man in a protective suit with a bee-box…and on the opposite corner of the porch: a bee smoker. It all fell into place.
Sunday, 1 March 2020
I didn’t even try to portrait these apple blossoms; too irregular.
This bloom, however, is perfect: round. I don’t know what it is called; I’m calling pretty purple not-poppy.
Tried to portrait this decorative cabbage. Nope. I guess the flopping leaves sufficiently de-round it and the algorithm rejects it as a face.
People okay. Pets okay—cats anyway. I have it from a roving reported that goat-faces are not accepted for portraitizing, although I have not yet performed that particular experiment.
Saturday, 29 February 2020
While out for my walk, I experimented with portrait mode on flowers again.
Also shot old school.
Night light fun: computational photo. I’m pretty sure the metal steps are painted black. The red came from fancy-SUV taillights, but the blue is a mystery to me.
Before I walked, I encountered a quote from Autumn de Wilde, director of the very recently released movie “Emma,” Jane Austin retold. She told the New Yorker/Sarah Larson that for the decor of Emma’s home: “I wanted it to be like a pastry shop. I told my departments, ‘The colors need to feel edible.'” I wondered what the most edible colors are. She went, the article says with a pink and green combo. Hmm. Depends on the food, but the flower and the lichen-on-brick seem to offer workable shades—the staircase not so much.