I
from above the narthex of All Saints' Chapel.
II
through the winding stairs' window on my way down
III
in Gracie's joy
Showing posts with label dog park. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dog park. Show all posts
Monday, January 9, 2017
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Dog Park Drop-in
Morning: warm-up in progress.
Fortunately, friendly dogs are more than happy to share their space.
Fortunately, friendly dogs are more than happy to share their space.
Monday, November 18, 2013
Survivors
I
A fellow lake-walker asked me a simple question this morning.
"Why are you interested in dragonflies?" she asked.
"Photography," I answered quickly. Too quickly because I immediately answered, "They're beautiful, like works of art, especially when seen up close. And they're so hardy."
"Will you see any today?"
"If the wind dies down, I will," I said. "Last year, I saw the last one two days before Christmas."
"Really?" she asked.
"Yup. They're just amazing. Despite the freezes we've had over the last week and the heavy rain and the strong wind, I think I'll see some." And then I added, "They're among the oldest living things!"
"No wonder you enjoy looking." Then she and her dog Oscar crossed the bridge and headed down the trail.
II
On some of the dam rocks, I noticed markings I had seen before, but I didn't photograph them.
At the trestle bridge, I saw more scribblings made by what seems to have been a marker of some kind. Why? I thought would anyone scribble on the iron rail of an old and beautiful trestle? Again, I took no photo.
But soon, I saw more and I couldn't ignore the defacement any longer. Stones and wooden bridge bore the writing of someone shouting I was here.
III
I looked up and saw another defacement: the new dog park. A scar on the hill where rows of sumac stood sentinel over ground cover. Even in winter, I could barely see the road and the cars coming and going. Now, everything's revealed.
I confess: I resent the destruction of that beautiful vignette.
IV
My mood spoiled, I hastened across the bridge, around the hill, and onto the patch of rocks and dirt facing the beach.
And then it happened: Autumn Meadowhawks appeared as if by magic -- that suddenly, alighting on leaf and stone, shimmering in flight above the water, ovipositing in it.
I felt myself lighten with their arrival. Just think, I thought: these Odonates descend from ancestors that lived some 325 million years ago!
V
If they can survive, so can I.
Despite people who despoil the landscape by scrawling themselves into it.
A fellow lake-walker asked me a simple question this morning.
"Why are you interested in dragonflies?" she asked.
"Photography," I answered quickly. Too quickly because I immediately answered, "They're beautiful, like works of art, especially when seen up close. And they're so hardy."
"Will you see any today?"
"If the wind dies down, I will," I said. "Last year, I saw the last one two days before Christmas."
"Really?" she asked.
"Yup. They're just amazing. Despite the freezes we've had over the last week and the heavy rain and the strong wind, I think I'll see some." And then I added, "They're among the oldest living things!"
"No wonder you enjoy looking." Then she and her dog Oscar crossed the bridge and headed down the trail.
II
On some of the dam rocks, I noticed markings I had seen before, but I didn't photograph them.
At the trestle bridge, I saw more scribblings made by what seems to have been a marker of some kind. Why? I thought would anyone scribble on the iron rail of an old and beautiful trestle? Again, I took no photo.
But soon, I saw more and I couldn't ignore the defacement any longer. Stones and wooden bridge bore the writing of someone shouting I was here.
I looked up and saw another defacement: the new dog park. A scar on the hill where rows of sumac stood sentinel over ground cover. Even in winter, I could barely see the road and the cars coming and going. Now, everything's revealed.
I confess: I resent the destruction of that beautiful vignette.
IV
My mood spoiled, I hastened across the bridge, around the hill, and onto the patch of rocks and dirt facing the beach.
And then it happened: Autumn Meadowhawks appeared as if by magic -- that suddenly, alighting on leaf and stone, shimmering in flight above the water, ovipositing in it.
I felt myself lighten with their arrival. Just think, I thought: these Odonates descend from ancestors that lived some 325 million years ago!
V
If they can survive, so can I.
Despite people who despoil the landscape by scrawling themselves into it.
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