One of All

I have always liked this shot:  water snake free in his element and duck seeming to take on a "trust but verify" posture.  Must be ever vigilant.





Our flock of eight ducks now, only two of four were left after last winter; we had to get six more to expand the flock.  The white ones are Pekins and the darker ones are Mallard domesticates named Ruens. Others are cross-breeds, maybe the solution to getting along.
You will not see any of this flock more than ten feet or so from any other member of the bunch.  Safety in numbers as long as a member can squack and warn in case of danger  (and it is a specific squack.)  Drift out too far from the group and danger lurks-- may be coyote or coon food.  It has happened.


Interesting how they of different breeds get along; even if it is only for self protection.,   Perhaps we as humans need a common enemy to get along with each other.  The "my God is better than your god" attitude of the clergys is getting tedious and is surely not helpful  to a good end.  But what enemy?  If the antibiotics eventually fail to protect us from disease how do we help there -- I have few test tubes and would need to depend upon the existing medical setup.
We need an enemy which we can all fight against; the lowliest and least mobile and those needing help being recognized but can think in ways helpful if listened to are all part of the communal effort .
It was clear in the past: donate your steel pots, gas rationing, donate material, rubber, anything which could build war machines and defeat a clearly deviant enemy.  Pitch in! " Howdy neighbor, let me help you with that load! "  We are all in this together.  God (god) must have sat in the background and  flinched at the scene, but common-enemy joined us together in life and victory, although the millions in the ground may disagree -- could they speak.
The enemy is hatred, fear,  and ignorance.
So we must stick together, be kind and understanding to each other, help if possible the others in need and build bridges to be used when a belief is far away. 
.
It is the only future that I would like to live into.

Respite

"Night, Seaport by Moonlight"         Joseph Venet




"This Hermit good lives in that wood
Which slopes down to the sea.
How loudly his sweet voice he rears!
He loves to talk with marineres
That come from a far countree.

He kneels at morn, and noon, and eve--
He hath a cushion plump:
It is the moss that wholly hides
The rotted old oak-stump. "


From  "Rime of the Ancient Mariner" by
Samuel Taylor Coleridge


Painted about 1771, this oil resides in the Louvre in Paris and looks a bit worn here in this depiction.  I wonder if the artist was using lantern-light while painting and how that affected his selection and laydown of color.
  After sometimes months at sea, sailors must have really appreciated stomping around on solid ground, building a fire and talking with the pretty ladies of the port.  I saw somewhere while researching this painting that it is the port of Palermo shown here.  Makes me wonder if the white building shown on the hill still exists and if one  could get away with building a fire near the shoreline in these times.

bringing IT home

 It cannot be ignored, has to be said that this is done in my name.  Some enemy are cowards, dressing as women and old men, drawing fire to the homes and gathering places.  How to fight that?
How does this fellow go on?

So I present bent trees, mosques and buildings, poems of mountain retreat and watery solace, rivers flowing, ducks and pigeons in their lives and other' lives long gone, flowers and beauty.  Attempts at cleverly relating visual image with written image (a lost friend used to tell me that all of my photographic images did not present many people--so true as I look back) are presented as attempts at relating to the world.

But some of the world creeps in late at night, around the edges, hanging onto thought and precluding sleep.  How to handle this?



I wondered how Rumi (16th century Persian Sufi Poet) would see it:

At the twilight, a moon appeared in the sky;
Then it landed on earth to look at me.
Like a hawk stealing a bird at the time of prey;
That moon stole me and rushed back into the sky.
I looked at myself, I did not see me anymore;
For in that moon, my body turned as fine as soul.
The nine spheres disappeared in that moon;
The ship of my existence drowned in that sea.

Divan, 649:1-3,5

I am not sure what more I can say. . .            WHY?

Solace

A place in time

a space formed man-made claypit lake 
 we walk to she and me

as the heat grows and small breezes help anticipate cool relief

a nice shade to sit and lay out some orange and cheese chunks.

Strip down for a swim . . .  careful of the kinda muddy edge . . .  best just to dive in.
water is deep and clear, and cool , and floating watching up to see blue and puffy floaters.
why arent clouds heavier than the air and come down nearer for closer  inspection?

smooth silk flowing fluid  by as we thread together and then apart.  really nothing to push against
but one with all as time is on hold and eternity passes with a heartbeat and a breath