Seen from above (my usual vewpoint, given that I’m six-foot-four) a number of the plants just getting established in the garden have a certain drama to them. In black-and-white, the sculptural quality becomes even more noticeable. Continue reading
The wasps and spiders have begun gathering on my porch, a sure sign that winter is well and truly over.
The numbers this year are somewhat unimpressive: last spring there were hundreds of wasps from three different species gathering under the eaves, while this year I’ve seen only a few, all of them Red Paper Wasps. Continue reading
Today the weather feels more like early summer than early spring. This afternoon I took a break from the computer to take a stroll down into the valley behind the house — with the camera, of course — to see what was going on down there. This early in the season the poison ivy hasn’t taken over yet, so it’s possible to get off the beaten path a bit. Continue reading
I do a lot of photography, but like many people with artistic pretensions I also enjoy working with other media from time to time.
I suppose my favorite plastic medium is assemblage, pulling together odds and ends to make a whole that is (hopefully) greater than the sum of its parts Continue reading
The crane flies are out and about this evening.
These creatures are a familiar sight everywhere during their brief mating season each year — flimsy tangles of thready legs and cellophane wings smacking into window screens and lampshades, dangling from spider webs, drowning in teacups, the survivors finally disintegrating after a few days into a litter of disorganized limbs under the porch light. Continue reading
Although we call them mountains, the Ozarks are really just the eroded remains of primeval sea-bottom, lifted by the pressures of continental drift, then cut and carved and gouged by a couple of hundred million years of water and wind. Even in the greenest spots, the ancient rocks are never far away: the Ozark ecosystem is a thin skin of life stretched over a broken skeleton. Continue reading
One hundred fifteen years ago today, in what is now the Ukraine, Dr Wilhelm Reich was born.
Dr Reich has interested me for many years, and I’ve considered him before as a topic for this blog, but I’ve always felt that he was just too large and complex a subject to squeeze into a few hundred words. Continue reading
I suppose anyone who has ever spent part of his or her childhood anywhere in rural America has heard the story of Cry Baby Hollow.
I’ve heard the story several times, in several different places. Although in one case, the teller was from Mississippi and placed the tale in a bayou instead of a wooded ravine, the fundamentals are otherwise almost always the same: at some point in the indeterminate past, a young couple sets up housekeeping in a remote forest glade (or swamp hammock), and in the fullness of time the young woman has a child. Continue reading
A blog, at least a blog like this one, is a series of essays, on different subjects. I can vary the style, the tone, the narrative voice, however I like, whenever I like, without risking the fragmentation of some larger narrative. In theory, there is no larger narrative. Continue reading
We got a brief break in the rain this afternoon, and I ran out the door with the camera. Tomorrow, I’m told, the rain resumes, but for a few hours Spring was very much in evidence in here in the Ozark foothills.
It’s been raining cats and dogs here for the past two days.
“Raining cats and dogs:” Everybody has said that at one time or another. It’s a distinctive expression, and is pretty much universal in the places where English is spoken. Oddly enough, however, nobody seems to know where or how it originated. Continue reading
Last weekend a friend of mine referred to Rick Santorum in conversation as a Philistine , meaning someone — well, someone like Rick Santorum. I didn’t say anything at the time, (which is unusual for me, I know) but I feel that it’s important to set the record straight: Rick Santorum is nothing like a Philistine. Continue reading