Morning Colors at Findlay State Park

I like going out to enjoy some classic fall color as much as anyone, and when I have a good friend to share in the experience, it's even better. But I especially seek out the moments when what I'm looking at gets lost in pattern or texture or some other tiny disguising details.

When reflections on water become a Gerhard Richter painting...

And a fallen leaf is transformed by an overgrowth of algae.

Starting Again

I've kept this blog off an on for a few years now and have approached it in a variety of ways. It's been a travelogue, a journal, an art gallery, a place to sort out my struggles, and a place to share some of the cool things I come across as I go about my days. As my posts have evolved to be longer and more complicated, they've also grown more infrequent. I miss posting regularly. And I especially miss taking a little time out of the day to express something simple, personal, and with a little more substance than is typically accepted on Facebook. Right now I'm in the middle of a major life change, and I feel I could benefit from a consistent practice of seeking out, composing, and then sharing something uplifting. When I get in the habit of intentionally looking for the good in life, I often find it. Making this the default approach to my day-to-day has not always been easy. So! "Starting Today", I'd like to set a goal to go about living with an eye toward beauty, be actively curious, seek out little treasures hiding in unexpected places, and then share some of what I find here--simply and without too much pretension.

This afternoon I went on a walk around Oberlin for the first time since returning from New Mexico. The sun finally made an appearance, and I was reminded that pretty much the best time to be in northern Ohio is RIGHT NOW! Fall is just starting to show its colors, wild fields are still lush and blooming, the air smells sweet and warm, and bunches of little critters are still hopping, flying, and scurrying around through the vegetation.

...for amber waves of...ornamental prairie grass.  

I found myself mesmerized by the iridescent sheen of a fly as it stood atop the breast of a decaying catbird. I admired the fine detail of feathers that would soon disintegrate, and imagined myself as a vast collection of reassembled bits gleaned from dirt, and dust, and countless little lives that preceded my own. Elements present in my hair that lived in the feathers of a bird; atoms in the tip of my finger that lined the retina of a prehistoric wolf; traces of water molecules that may have spewed from the mouth of Old Faithful; iron in my blood once suspended within a shockwave sent out after the death of a star...perhaps one observed and studied by distant eyes I'll never see.

Not to be morbid, but when I die, rather than moldering away inside some shiny box, I'd prefer to fall apart quickly--turn into a sprinkling of wind-blown dust and let all my little bits rejoin this cycle of decay and reassembly. Think of all the little things I might turn into someday!

7 great reasons for shoveling !#*%

Every Wednesday and Thursday I hurry out of bed and head over to the Oasis Animal Shelter where I spend the morning helping another volunteer clean kennels. My part of the job consists of shoveling big piles of poop out from the outdoor portions of each dog's run, while my coworker disinfects and hoses down the insides, sets down food, and fills each pail with fresh water. We coordinate our movements while allowing each dog some good quality run-around-the-yard, play-with-the-ball, sniff-around-the-fence, and bark-at-the-cats time (don't worry, the cats are outside the fence...and we put food and water out for them too).

This job has equipped me with a nuanced understanding of a range of canine excretions and how best to deal with them. Whisking up the really soft stuff on a humid July day requires a whole different set of techniques, for instance, than does scraping up frozen piles in sub-zero wind chill (the latter often helped along by a good kick from a heavy boot). All the "material" I remove from the pens is piled into a big plastic poop bucket and later washed down an outdoor drain in a soupy swirl of pungent goo. No bones about it: it's all pretty repulsive. When I start scooping I stop breathing through my nose, and generally don't start again until I'm out walking dogs. It's amazing the disgusting things you can handle if you eliminate their smell!

Despite what you might think from this description, the Oasis dogs are really well cared for. Their pens, which have space to move both inside and out, are cleaned three times daily. They do not go hungry or thirsty, they are warm in the winter, and music is left on for them when we leave. Veterinary care is given when needed. And unless the weather is REALLY bad, in addition to yard time, they get walked at least twice a week. Their lives would improve a lot with adoption, but until then they make do just fine.

Well that is all fine and good, but what really compels ME to return every week just to shovel more of their stinking !#*% for no pay? Ha!

Today I found 7 reasons:

#1. Chloe...

Quiet, intelligent, patient, disciplined, and great on a walk. When Chloe jumps up to give you loves, you know she really means it.

#2. Paddy.

A dedicated and exuberant player, she LOVES diving through the powdery snow.

#3. Buddy.

A booming voice and tough exterior belie a heart tender as a puppy's. Buddy is the perfect name for this big guy.

#4. Herbie.

Total sucker for a good belly rub...especially when it means he can also roll around in the snow!

#5. Ronnie.

A bit intense on a lead...especially when the ground is laced with deer track! You can always tell this girl means business.

#6. Sassy.

Scruffy little ball of fluff and affection...what's not to love? 

#7. Blade.

A big heart in a little body. When this feisty little chihuahua finally warmed up to me...transforming in weeks from a nervous introvert snarling in the corner, to my most eager and devoted Oasis friend...I was a goner. I ADORE this little guy!

There are lots more dogs at Oasis, and every single one provides another reason for me to put up with the early alarm, and the joyful need to scoop little piles of steaming !#*% for a couple of blessed mornings each week.

A Morning Walk

On advice from an informed neighbor, I altered the course of my walk this morning to incorporate a network of wood-chipped trails that surround Oberlin College's large solar power array. These well-maintained paths trek northwest of campus and lead back into a serene area of woods and meadow...meandering back forth and around a stately field of tracking solar panels.

I was already somewhat aware of the solar array (had previously caught glimpses of it way out behind some houses while exploring the neighborhood one day), but had assumed the land surrounding it was private property or otherwise off limits. Thank goodness for friendly neighbors. Without their well timed advice, I might never have seen these luscious golden fields.

I'm such a junkie for big beautiful vistas...vast quiet spaces that provoke a sense of wonder...

...and nearly always harbor lovely surprises if you take the time to look closely.

Alien shapes hidden away in an otherwise conventional lawn...

...and painterly eruptions of color...

Even things that usually inspire a disgusted cringe can reveal luscious geometries...

...fantastical interiors...

...and spritely keepers that carefully patrol their furrowed refuge...

...glinting like emerald in the sunlight.

Wishing

On tuesday night we went out looking for Perseids. The shower doesn't peak until late this weekend, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't expect to catch a few early birds. We doused ourselves in bug spray, sneaked over to one of the college's unlit athletic fields, and lay down atop a blanket spread out over the damp grass. Though my engagement with amateur astronomy has continued to grow over the past few years, and I can find my way around the sky a whole lot better than I was ever able to as a kid, it seems like ages since I'd gone out to simply look at the stars equipped with no technology beyond my indiglo wristwatch, and no agenda beyond counting (and maybe wishing upon) shooting stars. It's really something I should do more often.

Oberlin is a small enough town that the Milky Way is faintly visible on clear nights...even within city limits...well...not on Main Street of course...or around the Science Center...and you usually have to shade your eyes from the glare of a street light or two...but it's there! When Rob and I first visited Oberlin together in the spring of 2012, I remember stepping out of the car and being dazzled by the relative darkness. I was an NU student at the time and all too accustomed to Chicago's limited palette of half-a-dozen stars. Goosebumps lit up my arms as I imagined having so many stars in our regular backyard sky.

Back to our secret campout: we did see a few meteors...one or two likely Perseids...traced some constellations, and marveled at the number of satellites milling around overhead. Though the current forecast is not exactly encouraging, I've got my fingers crossed for at least one more good clear night for meteor watching over the next several days.

Utah Visit, July 2013, #2 ...Puppies!

This morning I woke up early and drove over to the Oasis Animal Shelter, where I've been working as a volunteer walker and kennel cleaner for several months. I generally go in twice a week: Wednesdays for walking, and Thursdays to clean. The work can be dirty, noisy, and smelly...and it often breaks my heart to think about each resident's hard-luck story, but on the whole, knowing I'm helping provide a degree of comfort, entertainment, and affection for these wonderful animals is very rewarding.

Every week it seems like I come home with a new favorite. I'll walk in the door and announce to Rob that "If we ever get to adopt one of these guys, I think I want..." and then fill in the blank with Herbie (who loves to play in snow and puddles, and rolls over for a tummy rub the minute I start scratching his neck), or Suzie (who is old, but so full of life, and affection), or Shyla (who's had a hard time being cooped up, but has the most beautiful loving eyes...AND WHO JUST GOT ADOPTED...YAY!), or Hershey (who's about as good natured as they come)...and the list goes on. Just about every Oasis dog has worked his or her way into my heart...I just can't help loving them all.

Just before heading out to Utah, I settled on a new "favorite." Izzy is a little black and white terrier (maybe a rat terrier mix) who came in, along with one other dog, from another shelter that wasn't caring for its animals very well. She is gentle and curious and has plenty of energy for walking, but not so much that she's difficult to handle. The week before I left, I stopped along our walk and crouched down to give her some scratching (an activity I indulge in with some of the dogs...as much for my own enjoyment as theirs). When she came over and looked into my eyes, I noticed for the first time how much she resembles Rusty (my mom's Jack Russell, whom I've missed terribly these past three years). They both have similar facial coloring, and big perky ears, though Izzy's build is more delicate, not quite as muscular as Rusty's. She reached up and gave me a little kiss on the cheek. I melted. If Rob and I were in a place that allowed animals, I'd have taken her home right then and there.


Still, as much as I love all the Oasis dogs, I could hardly wait to get back to Utah and see Rusty and George again. I worried that after three years they might not remember me; that even after all the playing, and snuggling, and walking I'd done with both, I'd come in the door like a stranger and we'd have to get reacquainted from scratch...which for a suspicious little chihuahua like Georgie, takes a bit of patience. Fortunately, those fears were unfounded. A moment after I walked through the door I was smothered in canine affection...and a minute later had so much hair on my clothes I might have passed for a dog myself.

Rusty slept next to me that night, and in the morning George and I joined him and my mom for their daily 6 mile trek around the neighborhood (George got a free ride in my arms for about half of that!). Rusty's 11 years are beginning to show. His face is graying, eyes a tad milky, and though he still pulls at the leash like a miniature sled dog, he does seem to tire a bit more quickly than before.

We got a few great walks in before I left, and whenever I was at their house, either Rusty or George...or both...would find a way up onto my lap in no time at all. This, of course, made it really difficult for me to say goodbye. On my way out the door to the airport Rusty glimpsed the suitcase slung over my shoulders and peered up at me like a dejected little puppy. He reached out a paw and placed it in my hand. Mom looked over and said, "Awww...he knows."

I'm sorry Rusty. I hope it doesn't take another three years for me to come back for another visit...

Foggy Remembering

This afternoon I drove out to the Nielsen Observatory to do some sketching. I've been wanting to improve my "sketching-from-life" ability, and yesterday acquired a small notebook to keep handy for that purpose. I'll just say right off the bat. I've had this urge before...a few times actually. I've purchased notebooks, sketchpads, "journals," and each has ended up in a drawer somewhere with nothing but a page or two filled up.

But who says I can't keep trying?

This most recent impulse is largely inspired by my reading of an anthology of nature writing: "This Incomparable Lande," compiled, edited, and introduced by Thomas Lyon (a Utah State University professor from 1964 to 1997). I've been completely captivated by the writings contained in the book, and scattered throughout are lovely black and white illustrations by various artists.

Black and white...just the thing to get my juices flowing!

So, here's my sketch of an afternoon at the Nielsen Observatory (and please forgive my misspelling...spellcheck is a curse!)

Another impetus for this particular sketch is my experience at the last BRAS public observing session. About halfway through the night, a thick bank of low ground fog rolled in, obscuring the view of everything except that which was directly above us. Our equipment was sopping wet to the touch, but in the exceptionally still air, objects at the zenith shone with a steadiness not typically encountered in this region. I'd been considering making a drawing of the scene, and wanted to reference an accurate illustration of the tree line that borders the observatory. So, I went back this afternoon to try out my new notebook.

Here's what I wrote on the page following my sketch.

Trying to remember how this scene looked at our last public event. The star party began at 10:00 pm with a crystal clear sky in all directions--obscured only by a small crescent moon setting low in the west. Saturn. M13. The Ring. Around 11:00 a low ground fog began to move in. In minutes the tube of my Dobsonian was dripping. Lee set up a camera tripod a little ways off in order to take some long-exposure photos of our foggy gathering. The fog thickened. The air was still. Looking straight up to Hercules the sky was jet black with un-twinkling pinpricks for stars. John said even with the fog, this still air is best for splitting close doubles. He scoured Hercules for gems while Mizar and Alcor shone out boldly for young guests. Albireo was steady and faintly colored. Observing lower into the murk, a stargate still led me to the Sombrero--haze within haze. Sounds muffled. Black trees stare out from a gray sea. M7.  Just barely. Green lasers are beacons. Pages curl. Glass fogs. Everything at eye level obscured. We look up into black. 

Groundhog Day

50 points if you can find Mama Groundhog's eye peering out of her den. She's there...I promise...a little above center.

She and her kits had been enjoying a sunny afternoon of leaf munching, when they were rudely interrupted by the sudden appearance of an oddly forbidding statue (me...sitting in a lawn chair with a camera propped upon my knee) just a few feet outside their front porch...

...but there was more munching to do yet! After eyeing me cautiously for a few minutes, she decided to give the ok for each kit to come back out.

One...

                                            ...two...

...and number three climbing out over the top of his long-suffering brother (or sister...I have no way to tell). Zoom in on these photos to see the details of their interaction...it really is quite precious.

That number three was the gutsy one. Vaulting past his two siblings, he bounded out from behind the bushes without a care in the world.

Well, almost. Under Mama's skeptical supervision, he didn't get much past the bushes before pausing to eye me warily.

Eeeeeee! I wish that stray piece of hair would quit tickling my forehead! 

A moment later, they'd all plunged back underground.

...and I finally rubbed away the tickle!

In My Own Backyard: 2

Last September I took a field trip out into the backyard to see what the neighbors were up to. Now that it's spring, there seem to be a lot more neighbors to keep up with!

Our resident groundhog has had babies. We've counted up to five. They come nosing out from under the porch next door in the early evening, and sometimes follow their mother out into our yard in a little groundhog train. They've been difficult to photograph...a little camera shy...they just don't seem to know how cute they are! This one's just noticed me and bounded off behind the house a moment after my shutter closed...

All over our yard, flowers are in bloom. I wish I could take credit...

Especially luscious are the peonies. They garland our foundation with enormous blossoms of deep red, soft white...

...and pink with yellow pom-poms.

 Our yard is reasonably large, and stretches back into a cool stand of trees and tall grasses. Well...the grass is tall only because I haven't been great about mowing that far back. There's at least one neighbor that doesn't seem to mind the unkempt lawn. After all, it makes a great place to sit back, relax, and chew your cud without being noticed...she hasn't even seen me yet...

...Oph! Looks like I spoke too soon...

I wonder if she'll be back tomorrow...

After all, where else in town is she going to find such a comfy patch of bedding?

If this is what a neglected lawn looks like in Ohio, I may never mow again!

Well, ok...since it's not my yard, and we've only actually got it for another couple months, I guess I'll do the work. Not today though. I've still got some exploring to do before the thunderstorms arrive this evening. And how could I give up the chance to get up close and personal with these little green hoppers?

Make sure you click on the photo below and zoom in a little. Those green eyes are really something!