Seek and Ye Shall Find

Its been a while! While I can't believe that I haven't seen anything wondrous for six months, I do know that I stopped looking there for a while. Its time to start anew, I think. Today we watched a red-tailed hawk in one of our poplar trees, scoping out the prey scene. I'm hoping he or she hasn't found our bob-tailed squirrel yet. There must be something bringing the hawk to the yard though, because this is the second time in a week we've seen one.

Looking for prey may not have been the motivation this time though. When this hawk took wing and flew north past the window, another rose up from the conifer next to it. Could it be mating season already? Perhaps just the time for a chilly courtship?

HATS AND FLOWERS

As I was riding along in the car the other day, I watched a woman actively tending her flower garden at the side of her driveway. Daisies and echinacea and other bright headed flowers bloomed riotously. The woman herself was like a huge flower, bobbing among the others. It was her hat that did it. Her hat was extraordinary; a huge, pale yellow straw hat of obvious quality, its broad brim crinkled into rosepetal-like convolutions. It would not have been as out of place at Ascot as it should have been in that garden. I could hardly see the woman beneath it. I smiled as I relished the unexpected harmony between the gorgeous flowers and this so patently manufactured object.

Was the hat supposed to look like that? Did she fashion those crazy ripples and waves?Or were they the happy accident of carelessness born from her concentration for the task at hand? Maybe the hat had blown off in the wind and become distorted Perhaps she’d raised a hand to wipe sweat from her brow, and caused those creases.

It was hard to grasp what it was about the sight that gave me joy, rather than making me just laugh at the ridiculousness of it, but I think it was that something about the vigour of the moving hat and the guileless way she wore it which conveyed her deep engrossment in her task. I rejoiced to see such a clear expression of a flow experience, that state where we forget ourselves entirely. In that moment, I could see and share her experience of becoming one with her garden.

This beautiful photo by Pavlo Boyko is from Wikimedia Creative Commons. Here is a link to his Flickr photo stream of things Ukrainian .http://www.flickr.com/photos/78419861@N00

Black and White and Read all over

Picture this!

A man is out for his morning run. He is sensibly attired in a white t-shirt and black running shorts. He passes a field full of Holsteins, who gaze at him with interest. Suddenly, one of the little heifers takes into her head, for whatever reason, to follow him. Whether she mistook him in his black and whiteness for the lead cow or whether she just liked the cut of his jib I don't know, but pretty soon he had a following of pace heifers, jauntily following him down the fence line, heads up and tails swinging. It was exceptionally sweet.

People are Alright, Sometimes

I watched five lanes of traffic on Highway 38 at the 401 stop dead to let a confuddled puddle duck and her brood of seven fuzzy ducklings negotiate the crossing of the road. First she would head one way, make it almost all the way across and change her mind. Then she would repeat the process in the other direction. It was heartbreaking to see how upset she was, and how her children followed her every move. It took five traverses before the family made it safely into the woods beyond the Park'n'Ride. The great thing was that no-one seemed to begrudge the time it took to let this happen. I only hope they found their way to the big swamp to the west.

Scene 2 in the Garden: In Which I am Cast as Mr. McGregor!

Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrabbits! Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrotten Leetle Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrabbits!

They're eating everything...Lettuces, beets, chard, and they have a definite fondness for eggplant, especially the oriental long ones. I have asked God to send me a fox. In the meantime, I have discovered that I'm a dab hand at trowel throwing. I actually hit one, but its a light carbon fibre trowel so it only skeered him a bit. Which is actually all I want to do.

Other mammals in the garden tonight were a baby weasel (long may his rabbit hunting soul prosper) and a full grown vole (who can stay only as long as he doesn't eat the produce, or until the weasel gets him, whichever comes first). Who knew gardening was such a blood sport. And speaking of blood, we've spread blood meal around everything a rabbit might find remotely tasty.

Oddly enough, the carrots are untouched. These are undoubtedly hipster rabbits. Nothing predictable for them. And they're locavores to boot. And I'd like to.

Tiger Stripes

Wow! and I thought Camo Glamo' was as weird as evening wear got. Take a look at this 1949 American concept of chic. This really doesn't work, does it? And the worst part? There's not a hint of irony.

A friend sent me a link to the Brooklyn Museum's current exhibit, American High Style: Fashioning a National Collection. Pretty amazing stuff. Some of it is even amazing in a good way!

http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/exhibitions/american_high_style/

Unbeatable

This is my cousin's new baby. There is no more amazing or strange thing in the world (to me, anyway) than the development and birth of a new human.