This in celebration of having made it through nearly half a year with the world still whirling, if throwing off smoke and sparks and giving off a horrid screeching… Otherwise it might be mistaken for an ordinarily lovely time of the year.
Am I down? Well… yeah… but this is a celebration, yes? Progress! Onward!
And I know just enough botany to tell you these are flowers and leaves caught at a lovely moment. Are they a distraction? Oh yes. May your future be filled with lovely distractions…
I’ve run across photographers able to bring macro photography of flowers at least a step beyond a pretty picture to something resembling floral portraiture, wherein the flowers are posed to suggest a vaguely human personality. Alas that I’m not one of them unless by accident; my technical skills and my equipment are far too modest. But these are pretty cute anyway, eh?
Oh… I’ve also seen portraiture of chickens… just sayin’…
For this I beg your pardon. Some will object to the image quality. Meh! The lighting was poor that morning. Some will object to simply being presented with a spider. Eek! But the spider is now dead and I wish to present its image to all and sundry because I killed it out of fear. Although, when it appeared in the tub that morning, it was warned: You have six or seven hours to leave.
Centipedes heed this warning more often than not and are gone by then. If not, it is removed, scoop and toss, leaving it perhaps a bit less fit but still alive and able to do what it does so well: Hunt other bugs.
The spider remained in the tub and was whacked with a sandal. Yes, that is a double standard for rescues. Centipedes are reliably venomous and are far more alien-creepy than any spider could be and they move real fast. Using alarm as a standard, centipedes should die on sight. But centipedes seem to listen whereas spiders have a cold just-business-nothing-personal affect even though they may be harmless and shy. I lief leave spiders be when they’re not in the way. Otherwise…
So this is my apology to the spider. It was entirely personal. You were not even food.
There they are, under a protective dome, while they work their technomagic to modify the earth to their liking. Is that to your disadvantage? Is your way of life about to change radically? Maybe to the limits of sustainability? Too bad.
But not to worry. It will begin slowly, barely perceptibly. Watch for strangely aggressive earthworms at first… followed by half-eaten Robins… followed by — well, you really don’t want to know.
But again, no worries. You may not live long enough to see it all. And if you do, perhaps you’ll be selected for the bio-preserve where you will be viewed with something akin to nostalgia by a species not well known for emotion but reluctant to simply throw away anything that might have some future use.
Apparently the parents wanted friends and family to attend the birth of their child in person but, you know… COVID and social distancing and all… so let’s have it in the courtyard. This strikes me as a rather dubious idea and I can’t help but wonder which of the parents thought up the idea… Not that it’s any of my business. And no, I have no idea how it came out… begging your pardon.