I went into a hallway

and this happened.

 

Seeing Stars

I

My friend F, a star in her own right

II

Three movies in one afternoon/evening: Brooklyn, The Chorus, and Buen Dia, Ramon, all radiant and radiantly life-affirming

III

Publix (speaks for itself)

 III

Nightlight

OK, So I Cheated

I do not apologize.

I merely state the truth.

But.

The light was so beautiful, the rocks' colors so prismatic, the spring's drip and flow so rhythmic that I could not help myself.

Do you blame me?

Really?

An Ordinary Journey to the Valley Made Extraordinary

1.

Fat, ripe navel oranges, $.50 each.

2.

Delightful parking-lot chat with a stranger named Barbara,
who works at the College.

3.

A quick stop at the Co-op, not to shop, but to photograph the windows backed with mylar.

I Do Not Make Art, But Yes, I Know This Feeling

Loving Working
by Naomi Shihab Nye

"We clean to give space for Art."
--Micaela Miranda, Freedom Theater, Palestine

Work was a shining refuge when wind sank its tooth
into my mind. Everything we love is going away,
drifting – but you could sweep this stretch of floor,
this patio or porch, gather white stones in a bucket,
rake the patch for future planting, mop the counter
with a rag. Lovely wet gray rag, squeeze it hard
it does so much. Clear the yard of blowing bits of plastic.
The glory in the doing. The breath of the doing.
Sometimes the simplest move kept fear from
fragmenting into no energy at all, or sorrow from
multiplying, or sorrow from being the only person
living in the house.

Winter Longing

Even an indoor cat misses the sun.

It could be worse, I try to tell her.

We could be living in Ittoqqortmoormiit, Greenland,
where the sun does not rise for 58 days.

What Light Does

It isn't that I understand the impressionists, or that I can see what they saw or know what they did with paint, or that I can explain their fascination,

but 

I do know what it means to love light, and the way it holds color, turning gold and blue and gray and white into shadow.

Love By Any Name

Polytunnel, polyhouse, high tunnel, hoop greenhouse, cold-frame greenhouse, season extension greenhouse, hoophouse, or hoop house -- call it what you will: I love the one built by the College Farm Manager and her crew.

I mean, I love it.

Witness the magic: plastic, metal, wood, light, sky, melting snow.

Something Frightening This Way Came

BigAssCat, sleeping in the chair next to me, suddenly sprang into action at the same time I did when we heard Doodlebug scramble down the hallway, turn the corner, and fly under the dining room table. When I finally coaxed her out, she ran into the study, fur still fluffed, and hid under the futon, cowering. Perhaps three or so minutes later, tail still puffed, she managed to stand near me, alert and focused on the doorway into the hall.

I decided to investigate. 

I looked out the living room windows into the darkness. Nothing. 

I looked out onto the deck into darkness. Nothing. 

I turned on the deck lights. Nothing. 

I went to the entry, peered through the window at the little lit deer, and something appeared. On opening the door, I found tracks -- lots and lots and lots of them.

Tracks emerged from or disappeared into the yard toward the street, and into the scrubby clearing or trees toward both neighbors' houses, into the darkness alongside my own house, and straight across the length of the porch, where the scooped snow undulated in waves. 

This is most certainly where Doodlebug must have seen or heard them, as she was probably sleeping in the chair by the front porch windows.

I do not know who visited, and I do not know where they went, but I do hope two things: A/ that they did not find shelter under or in my house, and B/ that they do find a warm place for the night.

Addendum: Immediatly after pressing Publish, I looked for the cats and found both of them on the chair, their heads parting the curtains, noses pressed to the window. Looks like the little one isn't so afraid if the big one is with her.

Winter Brings a Slight Change of Perspective

I detest light pollution.

Even my small community of Sewanee has light pollution, especially on my street: two bright hideously orangish streetlights; neighboring outdoor strings of bright-white large-bulb party lights; and one safety spotlight aimed directly at my living room windows.

There's a reason why I spend so much time at the back of the house.

Except (and there's often an exception): when snow blows in and collects itself into lovely little dunes and confettis the air, the streetlight closest to me throws dark blue shadows under the trees and then, only then, I linger in my living room.

Under the Stack of Unopened Mail

I found this gem from Christmas. I had forgotten these -- one handed to me on arrival by the writer, the other I discovered in the guest room.

The youngest of the four Greats, like one of the other great-nieces, uses writing for real purposes, and as always, when the writing is real because the writer cares, the reader does too.

I freely admit that I teared up.

Again.

To answer her question, I'd say this: I slept there in love.

Sorry, Todd Vorenkamp, but

I had to skip Exercise 4 today.

Why?

Let's just say ice and freezing fog (or cloud).

So.

I went out. Once. (My porch was slippery and my hands cold.)

I photographed the ice hanging off my dragonfly sculpture (spoon, marbles, cans, wire), and came back inside.

Then I made up my own exercise:

RH Exercise 1: Make Something of Nothing

Photography Exercise 3

Todd Vorencamp's Exercise 3: Four Corners

Choose one subject in one spot and place it, where it exists, in each corner of the frame for 4 images. Can you go to the other side of the subject? Do the same. Shoot all four sides in all four corners if possible. See what you come up with!

Either I am too tired from reading papers (possible), or it's too dadgum cold to see (also possible, besides which my fingers froze in less then 20 minutes so I had to come back inside), or this is the hardest exercise so far (probable).

I shall not punish anyone with all four sides. One will suffice.

I had to resort to in-camera trickery to keep from boring myself completely. 

I can see that I shall have to repeat these exercises many times.

Good thing there's no pressure!

Photography Exercise 2

Todd Vorencamp's Exercise 2: Ten of One
Take 10 unique and/or abstract photographs of 1 small subject.

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2

 3

 4

5

6

7

8

9

 10

Unique? Nope.

Fun? Yes.

Satisfied? With two shots, yes.

Photography Exercise 1

Todd Vorenkamp, a freelance photographer and creative content editor for B&H Photo, has written a number of helpful articles, including "13 Creative Exercises for Photographers." I completed the first of these this afternoon in an effort to explore some aspects of my camera.

Exercise 1: Two Dozen
Pick a location. Stand in one spot and make 24 unique photographs while standing in the same place. You cannot move your feet.

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2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

Success?

Depends on the means of measurement.

Quality? Not so much. 

Pleasure? A gracious plenty.

And that's what counts.