Metamorphosis 2012

A few years ago

I felt a nudging from change

so I dug a hole in my back yard

filled it with water

and added

a few gold fish

Although

the tiny goldies grew

to a remarkable size 

they didn't stick around for long

since neighborhood raccoons

love fish too

So I left the pond to Nature

and

wouldn't you know

almost overnight 

a thousand tadpoles

appeared

I love tadpoles like

kids love transformers

like I love 

metamorphosis

itself

Tadpoles are like plaster saints to me

 reminders

of possibilities

that come along

with being human

like jumping with joy

and

naked vulnerability

A view through the papyrus

Today my frog pond is bursting

with little jumpers

hundreds of baby frogs

venturing forth

into the incredible and

the edible world 

Setting aside

the thought that

some thing or some one

in this world

will eventually

eat you

Amphibians lounging in Papyrus.

The miracle of

metamorphisis

glues me here

at the edge of the pond

where the flavors of life

begin anew

We are a far cry

from the Nile Delta

where papyrus

recorded thoughts

yet Change continues

in the decline of paper

So today I salute

another metamorphosis

wherein the electronic age

brings words and pictures

from my pond

to your monitor.

~~~

The Queen Bee

Click to Enlarge Pix

Beekeeper Bob brought my first bee hive one week ago.

Today marked the first hive inspection to find the Queen Bee.

 I pulled my first frame looking for the Queen Bee

under Bob's watchful eyes. 

The empty frame position (right) 

held the Queen Bee in the short wooden box (left side, vertical).

She has eaten her way out of her transport chamber.

The workers have already started producing honey.

Ah, here's the Queen (the big one, left center).

She directs traffic and has already begun producing new workers.

 The new Queen transport cage and the first wax comb.

The hole in the cage (red circle) was filled with wax

that had to be eaten to free the Queen.

Another sculptural work of art for the top of the piano.

~~~

Missing Friends and Loved Ones

There is nothing that can prepare you for the death of a loved one.

Even when it has been expected for days, months or years.

As a survivor, you are left with an incredible sense of loss. 

There is nothing more you can do for them.

Days pass and you hear nothing.

What is left of them are the waves of grief

that bring you to a stop

moisten your face

and choke you

with the deep sobbing

brought home by love.

So, you are left with

memories,

Waves of Grief,

and the things they left behind.

And so it is with our loss of John and Cheryl.

Somebody said "You are your things."

I tend to take that notion seriously.

Looking at some of the things they left behind

you might grasp the idea

that our friends

are worth the pain

of loving

to the end.

~~~ 

A Dragonfly Day

It was drizzling rain yesterday when I went to vacuum our swimming pool. A slight breeze and rain drops created a disaster zone for dragonflies who like to zoom to the water surface, land briefly, drink, and fly away.

I spotted a single dragonfly who had just been submerged, fished him out on the end of a pole, straightened a sopping wet wing, then coaxed him onto my finger. He seemed to like dry finger and he held on.

Since the wings were still wet, I brought the creature into the house to dry off. Blowing gently on the wings, I removed a drowned ant from its attachment to an underwing and fumbled again for the left-handed camera at my waist.

Ninety minutes or so passed and the dragonfly stuck to my finger, making it difficult to continue my pen-and-ink doodlings. We were attached. I didn't have the heart to shake him off my finger.

So, I brought my finger back into the humid air of the front yard. Dragonfly wings fluttered, a good sign, but they went nowhere. Back into the house for further drying. 

Finally, after some gentle coaxing, the dragonfly attached itself to a sturdy, blue-foam, pool-noodle. Fifteen minutes later, the dragonfly lifted off the noodle and flew away. 

Namaste.

~ ~ ~

Watering Hole

Let us not argue

about shape or color

at this watering hole.

Shapes change. Colors shift.

And all of us will be gone
soon enough.

~

End of July

frangipani blooms

shadow hearts

empty chairs










~ ~ ~

Farewell Cheryl - RIP

Why do some people release balloons?

Why do others look to the skies

as friends evaporate

on earth?

Why do some people fear the unknown?

Why are some always angry?

We travel in clouds of ignorance.

These are some ways of earth-bound creatures.

~ ~ ~