The Other Side of the Fence
Bindweed Blooms
Busy Bees
Hate is Such a Lovely Word
Hate is such a lovely word
When conferred upon a lonely man
Who sits atop a lonely hill
And watches watchers waiting madly;
Waiting gladly for his fall
Teeth bared, blood lust, cancers all
They hate him ‘cause he looks unlike them
Reeks of power in his control
Something wicked listens paltry
(He is us though they are not he)
Given no more than an inch
They recoil from being benched
But all fault lies with them because
There’s never been a thought of love
Yet hate rains fire from above
And below and all sides round he
Weathers storms upon him hove
He smiles upon the ware wolf horde
‘cause hate is such a lovely word
When conferred upon a lonely man
Who right the wrongs too vast to number
Then sits to service without slumber
And wears their vengeance like a badge
Going to Seed
Fall is finally here and the area milkweed is starting to release its seeds to ensure spring blooms. I love this plant. It produces stunning flowers and just as stunning seed pod openings.
Last Spring I was able to capture some great photos of milkweed blooms. I’ll enjoy seeing if next Spring I can get more but with a unique angle.
Milkweed isn’t only fun to look at. It also provides food for monarch butterflies. I don’t have any milkweed at home so I haven’t been able to use it to attract butterflies and photograph them. Hopefully I can change that next year.
A Budding Photographer?
You never know what will interest a kid. It could be Legos or Pokémon cards or video games or something you never even imagined. It seems like every year a child’s interests change drastically. And although you know it probably won’t last, it’s always heartening when your son or daughter sees something that you’re interested in and takes an equal, if passing, interest.
This was the case last night when my ten year old son saw me taking photographs in the back yard and asked if he could do it too. I could have just gone and gotten an old smart phone and told him to start with that. But he seemed genuinely interested in my DSLR with its buttons and switches and complicated mechanics.
So I handed it to him and draped the shoulder strap across his shoulders, knowing well that if he dropped the camera the strap would either just slide down his back or be so long on him that it hits the ground anyway.
I showed him how to support the lens from underneath, how to zoom and focus manually when he needs to and of course showed him where the shutter release button was.
He ended up being a natural and was taking pictures I wish I had taken. It wasn’t a case of the student beating the master. It was a case of me realizing that none of the photos I had ever taken were ever that special. Maybe to me but certainly not in the world of fine photographic art.
After only taking a few photos he remarked “wow, you can be really creative with this”. He was discovering, on his own, how you can blur subjects on purpose to create an interesting effect.
My son has a natural understanding of the need for good light and interesting subjects and backgrounds. It was dusk when he started taking pictures which can be a difficult time to learn photography. But he never let it get to him. When it got really dark we just bumped up the ISO really high and put it in shutter priority mode so he could take long exposures.
Will he continue with his interest in photography? I have no idea. It could last a week or a month or it could be over already. I have a bit of hope for it though. When he gets a creative interest he often sticks with it for a while. He’s been interested in making our family tree for the last three weeks and he still isn’t tired of researching it on Ancestry.com.
But maybe I shouldn’t be encouraging it. I might not ever get to use my camera again.
A Few More Days
It’s starting to feel like Fall
Cool mornings, apples, pears
A few leaves coming down
But not so many that
We forget it’s still Summer
If only for a few more days
A Chance Encounter
I peered over the lip of the flower and came face to face with B. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, each of us trying to gauge the other’s motive, we simultaneously came to the conclusion that we were both there by chance. After shaking hands we parted amicably.
Upon a Ship
Upon a ship bound for no port
I spied a waiter waiting widely
So I spoke to him in short
I ordered waffles of a sort,
And sat there gazing at the sea
Its breakers breaking snidely.
No waffles came that day I sailed
Though many pancakes dipped the bow.
Where was the waiter whom I hailed?
I feel that he has greatly failed
To render service due somehow
And all I am is hungry now.
The Pen is Mightier
Ryan Davison
The pen is mightier than the sword,
but you must be precise when you thrust.