do you remember the thin man movies with william powell and myrna loy? through some kind of synapse misfire tonight, the thought of the word “aster” dredged up from my past the name “asta,” that couple’s adorable wire haired terrier, and i was transported to hot summer nights when steve and i first met, and we used to stay up late with a fan blowing over us in a cheap apartment, watching the whole thin man series. you had to watch each movie two or three times just to keep up with the cracking pace of the dialogue. and, of course, no mortal could have kept up with the pace of the drinking. it’s 28 years later, and i can still get a little bit thrilled about the idea of an acerbic and devoted middle aged couple, trading loving barbs, not quite able to hide their feelings for each other, or for their goofy dog.

sky blue aster

saint paul, minnesota

the twin cities have gotten a lot of recognition of late for being a bike-friendly place. whole lanes of major thoroughfares have been converted to bike lanes, several old railroad tracks have been converted to bike trails, all in addition to our extensive existing network of hiking/biking trails. with each passing year, i see more and more people commuting to work on bicycles. there seems to be only one downside. and that is the minor genocide that occurs each autumn as the deconstructed grasshoppers, flattened woolly bear caterpillars, exploded toads, and bisected snakes begin to litter my previously peaceful asphalt trails. i understand it. but i wish it didn’t have to be so.

northern redbelly snake

rice creek regional trail, saint paul, minnesota

…she gives you a molten ball of lava to work with. if you want the full story behind this pretty but predictable image, the full-length rant can be found on my instagram account: @maryjohoffman

sumac leaves in september

saint paul, minnesota

it is fun to make a beautiful image of something that’s beautiful in nature. but it might be even more fun to make a beautiful image of something that is ugly in nature. fall webworm nests look like someone took all the dust bunnies out of your vacuum cleaner bag and wrapped them around the extremities of tree branches. they lack all the elegance of orb spider webs and then some. they are not only ugly themselves, but they make beautiful trees ugly by infesting them. which makes me all the happier about the delicate ghostliness of these leaves, caught in the silky jaws of a monster.

leaves caught in webworm nest

arden hills, saint paul, minnesota

you, sir, are shaggy and unkempt. you have no backbone. you are rootless. you depend on the support of your generous and upstanding hosts, from whom you leach your livelihood, and to whom you contribute nothing. you think you can survive on sunshine and rainfall, and spend the rest of your life just hanging out with your bearded kin. i do not say this lightly, but, at the end of the day, you, sir, are little more than an epiphytic bromeliad. you are an angiosperm. there. it is said. i throw down my gauntlet.

spanish moss

st. petersburg, florida