I saw these guys on the Rhodes college campus yesterday. Seemed a little over the top for the number of leaves they were corralling. The noise was deafening (witness the worker's ear protection) and the amount of fossil fuel being used would have embarrassed an oil tycoon. I was relieved to see that there were no students on campus witnessing this excess. Hate to think that our future leaders would think this was the right way to handle fallen leaves.
Petit Jean State Park in Arkansas is a magical place. It harbors family memories, exposes changes in nature to our wondering eyes and instills a sense of miracles and beauty every time we visit. This year was no exception. Though the weather was cold and wet we were able to hike our favorite waterfall trail, one we have hiked many times. My children grew up exploring these woods and climbing these rocks. Now my grandchildren do the same. Every four years our friends join us there in an election year pilgrimage to share food, tell stories of our lives, lick our wounds if our candidates lost and rejoice with hope if our candidates win the opportunity to make our government work. I hope the tradition lingers into old age.
The photo below is a composite of the same trees taken 10 years apart. The tree on the left (shown in the middle image at the far left) has a healed over hollow and some new sprouts. The tree on the right still carries the heart shaped rock I admired ten years ago. I love the stubbornness of nature … the slow build that growth and adversity uses to form life.
As I rode my bike on Monday I saw a robin ahead of me on the path. He (or was it a she?) had just landed so I swerved to the side to avoid him. As I approached his location he rose up and flew right into the path of my bike tire. Robin suicide. I was so shocked I couldn't finish my ride. It has stuck with me all week. Do I need a noisemaker on my wheels? Should I have called out a warning? What to do with a dead robin on the side of a path? Had he ingested some disorienting herbal mixture? I guess I will never know. RIP little guy.
The bugs are making their last efforts before the chilling nights arrive. We have clouds of mosquiltos, armies of ants and sporadic spiders everywhere. This one was particularly industrious and perfect yesterday. A thrilling sketch that could be my next quilting diagram.
What is it? This is a high contrast graphic I created by scanning in a catalpa leaf and playing with the contrast and color. To my surprise as I zoomed in to the 600 DPI image I found this city scape of interconnected roads and arteries. I need to learn to stitch like this, it is a universal pattern.