perfection is overrated
i could have gone all the way to iceland to bring home a perfect feather, but that perfect feather would have been like all the other perfect feathers. this feather had to work hard to look like this, and it was sitting there, one of a kind, waiting for the longshot chance that a minnesota nature blogger would happen upon it on a rocky beach in iceland. we were meant to be together.
battered icelandic beach feather
the grass is always browner
how many march posts have i spent sheepishly half-apologizing for yet another composition steeped in grays and browns, and promising that april showers would soon bring life and color back to still blog’s seasonal palette? and yet here i am in late july as gorged with midsummer color as i am starved of it in late winter, and what i felt today was a craving for just a little taste of neutral earth-toned late-winter stems on the spectrum running from straw colored to walnut colored. the grass on the other side of the fence today was brown.
various over-wintered stems
so, what’s new?
we still don’t have a tv in our house and so i get my news primarily via urgent texts from my mom these days. based on the content of the texts i’m glad i don’t get news from many more sources than that. the news around the hoffman hosue today was that, after years of being aware of the red and white oaks on our property, i discovered this little clue sitting in our driveway, indicating that we also have at least one bur oak. headlines screamed. exclamation points were used. hyperbolic chyrons crawled. pundits opined. it was a big news day. i hope things calm down a little bit tomorrow.
mid-july bur oak leaves and acorns (Quercus macrocarpa)
i see a seahorse
i generally like to bend my vision to the objects i photograph and find the shapes in which they want to express themselves. but sometimes it’s fun to bend my objects to a vision, and this happened today, as i played with this virginia creeper vine, trying to help it find a perfectly pleasing sinuous shape before it wilted beyond recognition. at some point my husband and i both sat up and said, “it’s a seahorse!” and so my virginia creeper, so close to freedom and self-actualization, was conscripted back into servitude, breaking its back to labor in the fields of my selfish creativity.
virginia creeper vines (Parthenocissus quinquefolia)
i spend a lot of time talking about the spareness of northern winters and the endless grays of early spring, but i like to remind myself on some regular basis that the lushness of northern summers, with our soaking showers and late sunsets and hot sunshine make for a lushness that is almost as lush as the sterility of winter is sterile. this collection of broadleaf greenery was picked entirely at random over a shockingly small radius of woods and trailside within 100 feet of my front door. i think i can count 20 different species in there and maybe more if my eyes were better, and it wasn’t so late, due to the fact that the damn sun won’t go down in july around here.
july leaves from within a 50 foot radius