Soft Parade

April 17, 2014, 7:40 am

Spectators, St Patrick-St Joseph-Isleno Parade, St Bernard Parish, Chalmette, Louisiana: photo by Chuck Patch, 15 April 2007

Spectators, Mayor's Christmas Parade, Hampden (Baltimore): photo by Chuck Patch, 2012, posted 5 February 2013

Jackson Square, New Orleans: photo by Chuck Patch, July 2006

Otakon Anime Conference, Baltimore: photo by Chuck Patch, 31 July 2010

Times Square, New York: photo by Chuck Patch, 26 August 2011

French Quarter, New Orleans, Mardi Gras: photo by Chuck Patch, posted 30 November 2006

French Quarter, New Orleans, Mardi Gras: photo by Chuck Patch, 8 December 2007

Supergirl, Mayor's Christmas Parade, Baltimore: photo by Chuck Patch, 30 November 2008

Support hose, New Orleans p.r. show, Mardi Gras: photo by Chuck Patch, 28 February 2006

Crewe of Cork Parade, New Orleans, Mardi Gras: photo by Chuck Patch, 8 December 2007

Mother and daughter, French Quarter, New Orleans: photo by Chuck Patch, 18 May 2007

French Quarter, New Orleans, lunchtime: photo by Chuck Patch, April 2005

Union Station, Washington, D.C., evening commute: photo by Chuck Patch, 27 May 2009

Pelham Park, Bronx, New York: photo by Chuck Patch, October 2009

Sleeping tourists, mall, Washington, D.C.: photo by Chuck Patch, June 2007

↧

Woman in the Window

April 18, 2014, 7:17 am

≫ Next: William Carlos Williams: By the road to the contagious hospital

≪ Previous: Soft Parade

Madonna of the Broken Glass (Lowell, Massachusetts): photo by Jim Rohan, 10 November 2010

The ghostly Madonna in the thriftshop window looked down at us

in compassion and with sorrow through shattered glass

without seeing us

from which wrecked perspective ships had been launched

while Joseph was off in the shed puttering

with those damned tools of his again

Tax Shelter (Stoneham, Massachusetts): photo by Jim Rohan, 8 December 2010

Face (Wakefield, Massachusetts): photo by Jim Rohan, 17 June 2010

Nativity (Stoneham, Massachusetts): photo by Jim Rohan, 26 February 2011

Window dressing (Gloucester, Massachusetts): photo by Jim Rohan, 16 May 2012

Tarot (South Boston, Massachusetts): photo by Jim Rohan, 27 January 2011

Liberty #2 (Stoneham, Massachusetts): photo by Jim Rohan, 31 December 2012

Bananas (New York City). Ok. So it's corn. But I'm going bananas here today. :): photo by Jim Rohan, 19 April 2013

↧

William Carlos Williams: By the road to the contagious hospital

April 19, 2014, 7:08 am

≫ Next: Joseph Ceravolo: Red-tailed Hawk

≪ Previous: Woman in the Window

Untitled (Newark): photo by Joshua Perez (StrangeGoodness), 14 April 2014


By the road to the contagious hospital
under the surge of the blue
mottled clouds driven from the
northeast -- a cold wind. Beyond, the
waste of broad, muddy fields
brown with dried weeds, standing and fallen

patches of standing water
the scattering of tall trees

All along the road the reddish
purplish, forked, upstanding, twiggy
stuff of bushes and small trees
with dead, brown leaves under them
leafless vines --

Lifeless in appearance, sluggish
dazed spring approaches --

They enter the new world naked,
cold, uncertain of all
save that they enter. All about them
the cold, familiar wind --

Now the grass, tomorrow
the stiff curl of wildcarrot leaf
One by one objects are defined --
It quickens: clarity, outline of leaf

But now the stark dignity of
entrance -- Still, the profound change
has come upon them: rooted, they
grip down and begin to awaken

William Carlos Williams (b. Rutherford, New Jersey, 17 September 1883, d. Rutherford, New Jersey, 4 March 1963): By the road to the contagious hospital, from Spring & All, 1923

Untitled (Newark): photo by Joshua Perez (StrangeGoodness), 7 April 2014

↧

Joseph Ceravolo: Red-tailed Hawk

April 20, 2014, 7:22 am

≫ Next: So Now You Know

≪ Previous: William Carlos Williams: By the road to the contagious hospital

A Red-tailed Hawk (Buteo jamaicensis) harasses a Bald Eagle (Haliaeetus leucocephalus), Sussex County Landfill, Lafayette, New Jersey: photo by Tom Smith, 4 March 2009

January 17, 1987

I saw a red-tailed hawk

flying inland today. My son

pointed him out flying around the tree tops

in our town over the highway

resting in the branches

of the highest trees, then disappearing.

O hawk of our inner brain and vision

powerful as a microbe invading life,

beautiful as a comet in the night

subtle as the weak force

curving the universe left,

painful as the spark that gives us life.

JosephCeravolo (1934-1988): January 17, 1987from Collected Poems, 2012

A mature Red-tailed Hawk landing on a windbreak tree in farm country, Alpha, New Jersey: photo by Dah Professor, 22 December 2009

↧

So Now You Know

April 21, 2014, 7:07 am

≫ Next: Understanding Landscape

≪ Previous: Joseph Ceravolo: Red-tailed Hawk

Stillman (South of Market, San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 9 March 2014

It's been uphill all the way
you can't blow your own sail
but you can still blow your own horn

so long as no one's around to hear it

you can blow your lid
you can blow your wig
you can blow your top
you can blow your brains out

you can blow your cover
you can blow your cork
you can blow your lines
you can blow your one big shot

you can blow your nose
you can blow your whistle
you can blow your fuse
you can blow your cool

or maybe not

so now you know

...? (South of Market, San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 9 March 2014

Z (South of Market, San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 4 March 2014

3X (+2) (San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 4 March 2014

Clayton (Eureka Valley, San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 4 March 2014

Overpass (San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 9 March 2014

Walls (San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, March 2014, posted 17 April 2014

Crescent (San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 6 March 2014

Now You Know (Glen Park, San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 4 March 2014

Pedestal (San Francisco). Ashbury Park, once considered the geographic heart of San Francisco: photo by Robert Schneider, March 2014

Terminal 2 (San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, 3 March 2014

Uphill (Diamond Heights, San Francisco): photo by Robert Schneider, March 2014

↧

Understanding Landscape

April 22, 2014, 8:13 am

≫ Next: The Beginning

≪ Previous: So Now You Know

Willamette River, Oregon City, Oregon: photo by Jorge Guadalupe Lizárraga (el zopilote), November 2012

The cultural landscape is fashioned from a natural landscape by a cultural group. Culture is the agent, the natural area is the medium, the cultural landscape is the result. Under the influence of a given culture, itself changing through time, the landscape undergoes development, passing through phases, and probably reaching ultimately the end of its cycle of development. With the introduction of a different -- that is an alien -- culture, a rejuvenation of the cultural landscape sets in, or a new landscape is superimposed on remnants of an older one... Within each landscape there are phenomena that are not simply there but are either associated or independent of each other... the task of geography is conceived as the establishment of a critical system which embraces the phenomenology of landscape, in order to grasp in all of its meaning and colour the varied terrestrial scene.

Carl O. Sauer (1869-1975): from The Morphology of Landscape, 1925

Willamette River, Oregon City, Oregon: photo by Jorge Guadalupe Lizárraga (el zopilote), November 2012

Portland-Milwaukie Max Bridge, Willamette River, Portland, Oregon: photo by Jorge Guadalupe Lizárraga (el zopilote), April 2012

Yaquina River, Toledo, Oregon: photo by Jorge Guadalupe Lizárraga (el zopilote), February 2013

Camas, Washington: photo by Jorge Guadalupe Lizárraga (el zopilote), September 2013

↧

The Beginning

April 23, 2014, 7:13 am

≫ Next: Chidiock Tichborne: The End

≪ Previous: Understanding Landscape

Sierra dust storm. Taken from Owens Lake, looking west: photo by Jody Miller, 31 March 2014

Every morning bright and early
Came the man with the channels
Then one day he did not come
That was the day the dust storms began
Don't blame it on the cable guy

Vertical cloud over the eastern Sierra: photo by Jody Miller, 31 March 2014

RCA Victor. "We got to move these color TVs..." Keeler, California: photo by Jody Miller, 31 March 2014

↧

Chidiock Tichborne: The End

April 24, 2014, 9:55 am

≫ Next: Los Angeles: Double Face

≪ Previous: The Beginning

Blood on the Moon (1948): photo by hytam2, 1 April 2014

My prime of youth is but a froste of cares:
My feaste of joy, is but a dishe of payne:
My cropp of corne, is but a field of tares:
And all my good is but vaine hope of gaine:
The daye is gone, and yet I sawe no sonn:
And nowe I live, and nowe my life is donn.

The springe is paste, and yet it hath not sprong,
The fruite is deade, and yet the leaves are greene
My youth is gone, and yet I am but yonge
I sawe the woorld, and yet I was not seene
My threed is cutt, and yet it is not sponn
And nowe I lyve, and nowe my life is donn.

I saught my death, and founde it in my womb,
I lookt for life, and sawe it was a shade.
I trode the earth, and knewe it was my Tombe
And nowe I die, and nowe I am but made
The glasse is full, and nowe the glass is rune
And nowe I live, and nowe my life is donn

Chidiock Tichborne (c. 1558-20 September 1586): Tychbornes Elegie, written with his owne hand in the Tower before his Execution (1586)

Véronique et son Cancre (1958): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 8 February 2014

Le Amiche (1955): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 4 February 2014

Mahanagar (1963): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 10 September 2013

Mercy (1970): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 22 October 2013

Un Nommé La Rocca (1961): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 23 November 2013

Gideon of Scotland Yard (1958): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 20 April 2014

The Horror of It All (1964): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 13 April 2014

Chikaketsu renzoko reipu (1985): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 21 October 2013

Warning Shot (1966): photo by Leo Garcia (LenhillAdvanced), 10 January 2014

El Pico (1983): photo by Aka Vetala (omoplata 1), 1 February 2014

The Sandpiper (1965): photo by Leo Garcia (LenhillAdvanced), 28 January 2014

Dentist on the Job (1961): photo by hytam2, 13 March 2014

↧

Los Angeles: Double Face

April 27, 2014, 3:57 pm

≫ Next: Point and Shoot

≪ Previous: Chidiock Tichborne: The End

Theater District, Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 13 April 2014

Whatever else may be wrong in a political way -- like the inadequacy of the Great Depression techniques applied to a scene that has long outgrown them; like old-fashioned grafter's glee among the city fathers over the vast amounts of poverty-war bread that Uncle is now making available to them -- lying much closer to the heart of L.A.'s racial sickness is the co-existence of two very different cultures: one white and one black.

While the white culture is concerned with various forms of systematized folly -- the economy of the area in fact depending on it -- the black culture is stuck pretty much with basic realities like disease, like failure, violence and death, which the whites have mostly chosen -- and can afford -- to ignore. The two cultures do not understand each other, though white values are displayed without let-up on black people's TV screens, and though the panoramic sense of black impoverishment is hard to miss from atop the Harbor Freeway, which so many whites must drive at least twice every working day. Somehow it occurs to very few of them to leave at the Imperial Highway exit for a change, go east instead of west only a few blocks, and take a look at Watts. A quick look. The simplest kind of beginning. But Watts is country which lies, psychologically, uncounted miles further than most whites seem at present willing to travel.
.

As for violence, in a pocket of reality such as Watts, violence is never far from you: because you are a man, because you have been put down, because for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Somehow, sometime. Yet to these innocent, optimistic child-bureaucrats, violence is an evil and an illness, possibly because it threatens property and status they cannot help cherishing.

They remember last August's riot as an outburst, a seizure. Yet what, from the realistic viewpoint of Watts, was so abnormal? "Man's got his foot on your neck," said one guy who was there, "sooner or later you going to stop asking him to take it off." The violence it took to get that foot to ease up even the little it did was no surprise. Many had predicted it. Once it got going, its basic objective -- to beat the Black and White police -- seemed a reasonable one, and was gained the minute The Man had to send troops in. Everybody seems to have known it. There is hardly a person in Watts now who finds it painful to talk about, or who regrets that it happened -- unless he lost somebody.

But in the white culture outside, in that creepy world full of pre-cardiac Mustang drivers who scream insults at one another only when the windows are up; of large corporations where Niceguymanship is the standing order regardless of whose executive back one may be endeavoring to stab; of an enormous priest caste of shrinks who counsel moderation and compromise as the answer to all forms of hassle; among so much well-behaved unreality, it is next to impossible to understand how Watts may truly feel about violence. In terms of strict reality, violence may be a means to getting money, for example, no more dishonest than collecting exorbitant carrying charges from a customer on relief, as white merchants here still do. Far from a sickness, violence may be an attempt to communicate, or to be who you really are.

Thomas Pynchon: from A Journey into the Mind of Watts, in New York Times Magazine, 12 June 1966

Vengeance (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 15 October 2013

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 17 February 2014

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 5 October 2013

Double Face (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 15 October 2013

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 17 February 2014

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 25 March 2014

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 15 February 2014

Los Feliz, Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 7 September 2013

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 15 February 2014

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 5 October 2013

Financial (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 8 November 2013

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 15 February 2014

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 25 March 2014

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 15 February 2014

Silverlake, Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 7 February 2014

Long Beach, California: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 3 January 2014

Pasadena, California: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 30 September 2012

Barber Shop (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 26 October 2013

Escalate (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 23 September 2013

Clifton's (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 13 April 2014

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 15 February 2014

Rollercoaster (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 14 September 2013

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 5 October 2013

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 26 October 2013

Los Angeles: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 20 October 2013

Rollercoaster (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 5 October 2013

Seal Beach, California: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 9 February 2014

Santa Monica, California: photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 10 September 2013

America (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 17 November 2013

Box Tops (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 5 October 2013

Secret (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 4 August 2013

Cycle (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 17 November 2013

Bark (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 13 October 2013

Fast Food (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 13 October 2013

Anti Itch (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 8 November 2013

Office Break (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 8 November 2013

Wanna Buy a Watch (Los Angeles): photo by [DV8] David Patrick Valera, 9 November 2013

↧

Point and Shoot

April 29, 2014, 9:07 am

≫ Next: Moving House

≪ Previous: Los Angeles: Double Face

Houston, Texas: photo by gumanow, October 2013, posted 8 April 2014

A wee bit
of intelligent
direction --

all reality

that hopelessly

awkward

and ungainly
proposal

forever spilling

over

into uncertainty

seemed

to need.

Austin, Texas: photo by gumanow, September 2009, posted 26 January 2010

↧

Moving House

April 30, 2014, 8:43 am

≫ Next: Stevie Smith: Mother, among the Dustbins

≪ Previous: Point and Shoot

Automobile landscape, Mill Valley, California: photo by Dave Glass (Dizzy Atmosphere), 1978, posted 1 April 2014

We were always moving out

ahead of the next wave yet not

riding the last wave to the crest

history refracts the burden

and it all breaks back and down

and returns yet not the same, tipping

ill fitting puzzle bits of myth
captured and released

in transition to dust from real life

as time flows on away beneath
the ground

all the endless summer night long

House Movers, San Francisco. Victorian house being moved to Ellis Street just below Divisadero, Western Addition: photo by Dave Glass (Dizzy Atmosphere), 1977, posted 24 April 2012

↧

Stevie Smith: Mother, among the Dustbins

May 1, 2014, 8:18 am

≫ Next: Negative Development

≪ Previous: Moving House

Play: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 13 March 2009

Mother, among the dustbins and the manure
I feel the measure of my humanity, an allure
As of the presence of God, I am sure

In the dustbins, in the manure, in the cat at play,
Is the presence of God, in a sure way
He moves there. Mother, what do you say?

I too have felt the presence of God in the broom
I hold, in the cobwebs in the room,
But most of all in the silence of the tomb.

Ah! but that thought that informs the hope of our kind
Is but an empty thing, what lies behind? --
Naught but the vanity of a protesting mind

That would not die. This is the thought that bounces
Within a conceited head and trounces
Inquiry. Man is most frivolous when he pronounces.

Well Mother, I shall continue to think as I do,
And I think you would be wise to do so too,
Can you question the folly of man in the creation of God?
.....Who are you?

Stevie Smith (1902-1971): Mother, among the Dustbins, from Tender Only to One (1938)

DSC–0153: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 2 April 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 13 March 2009

DSC–0069: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 24 February 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 12 February 2009

DSC–0088: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 24 February 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 9 March 2009

DSC–0088: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 26 March 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 6 May 2009

DSC–0035: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 24 February 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 5 May 2009

DSC–0080: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 2 April 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 25 February 2009

DSC–0021: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 20 April 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 5 May 2009

DSC–0055: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 2 April 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 5 May 2009

DSC–0027: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 11 May 2008

Untitled: photo by An-Sofie Kesteleyn, 5 May 2009

↧

Negative Development

May 2, 2014, 8:54 am

≫ Next: Still Lights

≪ Previous: Stevie Smith: Mother, among the Dustbins

Door to Hell #2: photo by Jim Rohan, 22 April 2014

Death avoidance.
A game like tag.
An everyday thing.

Haben einen schönen Tag.
Haben einen schönen Tod.

Old is a kind of plague.

The demented chef
could not remember her own recipe
between looking it up
and turning around
thus ruining the duck
she was cooking for the food editor.

At that point she threw in the apron
and went to the superfood
and microvitamin

cocktails.

Always the broken door

swinging on its hinges

in the ancient gate,

the rue in the not knowing
whether or not
the imperial warriors are out there
or
the dosage intakes

actually occurred

as prescribed.

And the sympathy
felt for the duck --
where, along the smoothie

greased path

leading to to the next dim covert

in life's incredible journey

was there ever going to be
time for that?

Will today's photographers even get it? ;-): photo by Hans Söderstrom, 25 April 2014

Yerba Buena (San Francisco): photo by Jim Rohan, 27 April 2014

↧

Still Lights

May 4, 2014, 8:41 am

≫ Next: Why Me

≪ Previous: Negative Development

call me when you get home: photo by greg (It'sGreg), 1 August 2009

On the seventh day

He rested.

For eons

He had waited

Until the time was right

To lure

Big tech firms

Into the cleanest

Little white

City

He had ever

Created.

And then, and then

Into the silence

He shone

His lights --

His red light

His green light

And his computer

Timed don't

Walk signal.

a little time to think about it: photo by greg (It'sGreg), 15 August 2009

a teacher appears when the student is ready: photo by greg (It'sGreg), 15 August 2009

civil disobedience: photo by greg (It'sGreg), 4 September 2009

judgment: photo by greg (It'sGreg), 25 August 2009

take the long way home: photo by greg (It'sGreg), 5 August 2009

then the doppler-compressed sound of a truck's horn: photo by greg (It'sGreg), 23 August 2012

↧

Why Me

May 5, 2014, 8:05 am

≫ Next: Who goes there?

≪ Previous: Still Lights

Fields Landing, California: photo by Christopher Hall, 19 April 2014

Why me?
I asked.

I hadn't ever requested that.

Easter came and went.

The negative thoughts passed

and were replaced

by fresh negative thoughts

popping up

much as blossoms, to mark

the season

of renewal.

.

Two weeks went by
but little changed. The rain

ended, the city
deer grew thirsty

again. A Saturday
morning, broad daylight, traffic

mayhem as ever
on Marin. Then I saw her.

A bold doe
with fawns in tow

anxiously prancing
across Colusa

in the middle of the lethal

vehicular stream

at the corner where
the Jetta whacked me.

A few hours later
she was back on her own

standing on hind legs
pushing with front

on a sapling
so that it bent low

enough for nibbling.

Fields Landing, California: photo by Christopher Hall, 20 November 2013

Curbside coffee service, El Cerrito, California: photo by Christopher Hall, 20 October 2009

Sweet Dreams (Sunset View Mortuary, El Cerrito, California): photo by Christopher Hall, 23 March 2010

17th at Potrero, San Francisco: photo by Christopher Hall, 6 January 2013

El Cerrito, California: photo by Christopher Hall, 17 October 2009

Death in San Geronimo. Road-killed deer, San Geronimo, California: photo by Christopher Hall, 27 September 2009

↧

Who goes there?

May 6, 2014, 8:25 am

≫ Next: Something

≪ Previous: Why Me

Damara Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii, genus Madoqua), female, in Etosha National Park, Namibia: photo by Yathin S. Krishnappa, 8 February 2012

A movement

Something on the air

a half
mile off

in the bush --
an intruder?

Never not
on the alert --

Who goes there?
startled to flight

the ever vigilant
dik-dik bolts

at the merest
hint

of the presence
of you

Damara Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii, genus Madoqua), male, Etosha National Park, Namibia (partner of animal in the photo directly above): photo by Yathin S. Krishnappa, 8 February 2012

Damara Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii, genus Madoqua), Etosha National Park, Namibia: photo by Tynewear-Rob, 29 November 2013

Damara Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii, genus Madoqua), Etosha National Park, Namibia. The smallest antelope in the word, with a prehensile nose like an elephant's or a tapir's: photo by Johnn van Heerden, 4 June 2013

Damara Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii, genus Madoqua), Okonjima, Namibia: photo by Phil Stronge, 5 July 2008

Kirk's Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), female, pausing by a patch of lantana: photo by Donn Dobkin, 8 November 2007

Kirk's Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), Samburu National Reserve (Archers Post, Rift Valley), Kenya: photo by Achim (AnyMotion), 23 September 2011

Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), male, Shinyanga, Tanzania: photo by Alastair Schouten, 7 October 2011

Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), Kenya: photo by Adam Stafford (deerdiaryphoto), 29 November 2008

Kirk's Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), Tsavo East National Park, Kenya: photo by Philippe Boissel, 19 February 2010

Kirk's Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), Tsavo East National Park, Kenya: photo by Naaz Nomad, 29 June 2012

Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), Tsavo East National Park, Kenya: photo by :MArC-OH, 18 October 2008

Dok-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), Etosha National Park, Namibia: photo by Silver Link, 20 March 2010

Dik-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), Samburu National Reserve, Kenya: photo by Snake3yes, 15 August 2006

Dik-Dik, Samburu National Reserve, Kenya. Dik-dik (Madoqua kirkii) is a small (15 pounds and 16 inches at the shoulder) antelope. The female's alarm call ["dik-dik"] may alert other animals to predators: photo by David Wong (R-Gasman). 10 May 2011

Dik-Dik in the bushes of Lake Manyara National Park, Tanzania: photo by qes, 16 June 2011

Dik-Dik, Samburu Natural Reserve, Kenya. The dik-dik is a small antelope, 50–70 cm (20-28 in) long and weighs 3–6 kg.They can live for up to 10 years. If they're very, very careful and stay away from the cats. Dik-diks form permanent mating pairs, if one dies the other seldom mates again: photo by Jens Vinsrygg (jensvins), 13 June 2010

Dok-Dik (Madoqua kirkii), Etosha National Park, Namibia: photo by Oliver C. Wright, 7 September 2011

↧

Something

May 7, 2014, 8:31 am

≫ Next: Lionize

≪ Previous: Who goes there?

Sea Lions, East Mooring Basin, Astoria, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 27 February 2011

Is it the light?

Something. Escaping the enclosure

somehow, slipping under

and heading off somewhere

or other. How far

How high how deep

won't matter

just go.

Sea Lion, Old Lifeboat Station, Drake's Bay, Point Reyes: photo by Austin Granger, 24 February 2011

Blackbird, Burns, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 22 April 2014

Crows, Portland: photo by Austin Granger, 28 November 2012

Field with Birds, Sauvie Island, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 21 November 2011

Owl, 'D' Ranch, Point Reyes: photo by Austin Granger, February 2011

Pelican, Wildcat Beach, Point Reyes, California: photo by Austin Granger, 25 February 2011

Black Door with Pelicans, North Bend, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 19 October 2013

Artistic Taxidermy, Hampden, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 21 April 2014

Buck Skull, Drake's Estero, Point Reyes, California: photo by Austin Granger, February 2011

3215 [Elk Skull], Tomales Point, Point Reyes, California: photo by Austin Granger, 27 February 2011

The Cow, Black Rock Desert, Nevada: photo by Austin Granger, 1 July 2011

The Rabbit, Black Rock Desert, Nevada: photo by Austin Granger, 10 July 2011

Coyote, Eastern Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 2 October 2012

Dead Cow, near Winnemucca, Nevada: photo by Austin Granger, 18 April 2014

Bird in a Puddle, Nahcotta, Washington.[Commenter:"...strangely beautiful" AG: "I'm not sure if it's so strange. I mean, she's simply becoming what she was all along -- a perfect part of the larger, beautiful whole.:-)"]: photo by Austin Granger, 13 February 2013

Dead Pigeon, Portland: photo by Austin Granger, 22 September 2011

Bobcat, Beaverton, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 24 October 2012

Polar Bear, Taxidermist's, Eugene, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 25 February 2011

Lion and Moose, Taxidermist's, Eugene, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 3 August 2011

Magnum Safari, Portland: photo by Austin Granger, 7 March 2012

The Safari Club, Estacada, Oregon: photo by Austin Granger, 6 March 2014

Civics resting, Santa Rosa, California: photo by Austin Granger, 27 February 2011

Abandoned Strip Mall with Jaguars and Wildebeests, Portland: photo by Austin Granger, 10 October 2012

Tigers, Portland: photo by Austin Granger, 31 May 2011

Bears, Parking Lot, Skagway, Alaska: photo by Austin Granger, 5 July 2013

Bear with Handler, Alaska: photo by Austin Granger, 7 July 2013

Enclosure [Polar Bear Enclosure, Portland Zoo]: photo by Austin Granger, 20 December 2013

Lily, Portland Zoo: photo by Austin Granger, 12 March 2013

Lily, Portland Zoo: photo by Austin Granger, 13 March 2013

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Lionize

May 8, 2014, 10:05 am

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Untitled [Lion, Myself, Stockholm]: photo by Hans Söderstrom, 13 April 2014

II.xi. "What is internal is hidden from us." --- The future is hidden from us. But does the astronomer think like this when he calculates an eclipse of the sun?

If I see someone writhing in pain with evident cause I do not think: all the same, his feelings are hidden from me.

We also say of some people that they are transparent to us. It is, however, important as regards this observation that one human being can be a complete enigma to another. We learn this when we come into a strange country with entirely strange traditions; and, what is more, even given a mastery of the country's language, we do not understand the people. (And not because of not knowing what they are saying to themselves.) We cannot find our feet with them.

"I cannot know what goes on in him" is above all a picture. It is the convincing expression of a conviction. They are not readily accessible.

If a lion could talk, we could not understand him.

Ludwig Wittgenstein: from Philosophical Investigations, c. 1945-1949

If a lion could talk,
...would he talk to Mark
...would he talk to Matthew
...would he talk to Luke
...would he talk to John

or to the four archangels

mounted on the queen's bedposts

even if he were in great pain

even if his life were ending

even if the hyena pack were closing in

and the vultures already wheeling in patient circles

in a wide early evening sky
he would not let on

and we would continue to fail to understand him

Untitled [Lion, Stockholm]: photo by Hans Söderstrom, 10 July 2011

Lion (Kungsträdgarden, Stockholm): photo by Hans Söderstrom, 5 August 2009

Lions (Richmond, Virginia, USA): photo by Hans Söderstrom, 18 December 2011

Thirsty Lion (Falun, Dalarna, Sweden]: photo by Hans Söderstrom, 16 August 2013

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Young Man Carrying Goat: Vermont Forty Years Ago

May 9, 2014, 8:07 am

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This native of Randolph Center, Vermont, quit a Job as an auto mechanic to return to the family farm in hopes of keeping it running. In addition to Jersey cow milk, he and his mother sell goat's milk to private customers and a local nursing home: photo by Jane Cooper for the Environmental Protection Agency's DOCUMERICA Project, May 1974 (U. S. National Archives)

Am I the only one

watching

my neighbour’s

frolicksome goat,

Ginger,

tied to a pecan tree?

All morning

it has been examining

an empty bushel basket

and has lifted

one leg delicately

like a circus horse

as if to roll it,

but whether to do that

or to butt it

with its small horns,

that is the question.

Not of great moment,

no signing of the Charter,

but like air music,

quickest of the elements.

Towards which I leaped!

Carl Rakosi (1903-2004): from Ginger, in The Collected Poems of Carl Rakosi, 1986

Early morning mist from a river carpets the length of the East Randolph, Vermont, valley: photo by Jane Cooper for the Environmental Protection Agency's DOCUMERICA Project, May 1974 (U. S. National Archives)

The village of East Randolph, Vermont, where buildings only change with the weight of years and heavy snows, is seen shortly after the dawn mist has risen: photo by Jane Cooper for the Environmental Protection Agency's DOCUMERICA Project, May 1974 (U. S. National Archives)

This woman lives on a dairy farm near Randolph Center, Vermont, that has been owned by the family for six generations. Low milk prices and increasing property taxes threaten her way of life: photo by Jane Cooper for the Environmental Protection Agency's DOCUMERICA Project, June 1974 (U. S. National Archives)

The surviving child of 13 offspring, this man has lived alone since his mother's death 25 years ago. He continues to run the family farm, and tends a herd of 30 Whitefaced cattle, plus four pigs and 15 dogs: photo by Jane Cooper for the Environmental Protection Agency's DOCUMERICA Project, June 1974 (U. S. National Archives)

Resident of Roxbury, Vermont, draws off the finished syrup from a homemade evaporator. Instead of working in a sugar house he sets up a makeshift rig in a new spot each year to use fallen timber and loose brush to fire the sawed-off oil drum: photo by Jane Cooper for the Environmental Protection Agency's DOCUMERICA Project, May 1974 (U. S. National Archives)
Viewer comments on above photo by Hred pics, 2010:"Looks like one of the Webster boys. They've all passed on now". "I showed this to a friend, she's pretty sure that's Curtis Webster. He lost the fingers of one hand in a railroad accident."

Uncharacteristically somber, this 76-year-old native of East Randolph, Vermont, finishes his morning's third cup of coffee. Since his legs went bad he is now able to do only small repair jobs. His work career Included that of a farmer, lumberjack, mechanic, ice cutter, hotel manager, professional chauffeur and handyman: photo by Jane Cooper for the Environmental Protection Agency's DOCUMERICA Project, June 1974 (U. S. National Archives)
Viewer comment on above photo by Hred pics, 2010: "Trust me, we are still living that way."

Who can say now,

“When I was young, the country was very beautiful?

Oaks and willows grew along the rivers

and there were many herbs and flowering bushes.

The forests were so dense the deer slipped through

the cottonwoods and maples unseen.”

Who would listen?

Who will carry even the vicarious tone of that time?

In the old days

age was honored.

Today it’s whim,

the whelp without habitat.

Who will now admit

that he is either old or young

or knows anything?

All that went out with the forests.

Carl Rakosi (1903-2004): The Old Codger’s Lament. from The Collected Poems of Carl Rakosi, 1986

This area Is known as Gay Hill near Stockbridge, Vermont. The farm was originally built in the 1800's by Ephraim Twitchell, the famous Vermont bridge builder: photo by Jane Cooper for the Environmental Protection Agency's DOCUMERICA Project, March 1974 (U. S. National Archives)

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Playful

May 11, 2014, 9:54 am

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Wild otter (Lutra lutra), Loch Eil, Scotland: photo by Sheila Rogers, 22 May 2013

Very few species of animal habitually play after they are adult; they are concerned with eating, sleeping, or procreating, or with the means to one or other of these ends. But otters are one of the few exceptions to this rule; right through their lives they spend much of their time in play that does not even require a partner. In the wild state they will play alone for hours with any convenient floating object in the water, pulling it down to let it bob up again, or throwing it with a jerk of the head so that it lands with a splash and becomes a quarry to be pursued. No doubt in their holts they lie on their backs and play, too, as my otters have, with small objects that they can roll between their paws and pass from palm to palm, for at Camusfeàrna all the sea holts contain a profusion of small shells and round stones that can only have been carried in for toys.

Mij would spend hours shuffling a rubber ball around the room like a four-footed soccer player using all four feet to dribble the ball, and he could also throw it, with a powerful flick of the neck, to a surprising height and distance. These games he would play either by himself or with me, but the really steady play of an otter, the time-filling play born of a sense of well-being and a full stomach, seems to me to be when the otter lies on its back and juggles small objects between its paws. This they do with an extraordinary concentrated absorption and dexterity, as though a conjuror were trying to perfect some trick, as though in this play there were some goal that the human observer could not guess. Later, marbles became Mij's favourite toys for this pastime -- for pastime it is, without any anthropomorphizing -- and he would lie on his back rolling two or more of them up and down his wide, flat belly without dropping one to the floor, or, with forepaws upstretched, rolling them between his palms for minutes on end.

Gavin Maxwell (1914-1969): from Ring of Bright Water, 1960

Wild otters (Lutra lutra), mother and cub, Isle of Mull, Scotland: photo by Margaret J. Walker, 26 June 2008

Washing Off. Wild otter (Lutra lutra), preening after a crab supper, Shetland: photo by glidergoth, 23 February 2012

Shetland Otter cubs, playfighting and exploring in a rock pool while adults are off fishing in rough seas. At times they were as close as 6 feet away, but carried on playing while I took pictures: photo by John Moncrieff (Crieffie.), 16 January 2011

Shetland Otter with cub -- 1. These two always managed to stay just a bit too far out of reach, hence these are pretty big crops. Nice to see them though, lots of playing and splashing around: photo by John Moncrieff (Crieffie.), 6 May 2011

Shetland Otter with cub -- 2. Playing and splashing around. (Mainland Shetland): photo by John Moncrieff (Crieffie.), 6 May 2011

A trio of Shetland Otters. A grim day, windy and rainy, but great for spotting Otters! This family three were having a great time play-fighting and trying to fit the odd bit of food in too. Taken on Mainland Shetland: photo by John Moncrieff (Crieffie.), 23 May 2011

Otter family fun, Shetland: photo by John Moncrieff (Crieffie.), 23 May 2011

Otter and cub rolling around in the grass before heading back to sea (mainland Shetland): photo by John Moncrieff (Crieffie), 19 March 2011

Contented otter, Shetland: photo by John Moncrieff (Crieffie.), 24 May 2011

Sandaig Bay, Scotland. ("Camusfearna" in Gavin Maxwell's book Ring of Bright Waterand the final resting place of Maxwell and one of his otters): photo by Peter Ashby (Pegash), 1 November 2005

for Duncan Jones

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