Archive for the ‘Images Captured’ Category
Wet Reflections
From the world of unexpected results in photography comes two images I didn’t realize I was getting at the time I captured them. There was water flowing across the asphalt of our driveway in pulses. My primary attention was on the rows of ripples showing up in the stream of flowing water and not on the way the tree branches were being reflected.
I’m really pleased with the swirly abstract patterns that showed up.
Psychedelic!
I could have some fun colorizing those, but I am satisfied with the actual lighting as it appeared at the moment, so for now, this is the way I am saving these wet reflections.
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Driveway Series
Imagine if Thursday the 13th was a thing. Today would be that day. Maybe it would have a good connotation, leading to “Happy Thursday the 13th” salutations! Maybe not. Just a random thought.
Walking back from the barn Tuesday afternoon, I spotted some things that prompted me to pull out my phone camera.
The first was the way icicles from a drip off the corner of the shop garage were forming on the branch of the pine tree there. There was just enough wind blowing around that corner that it caused the icicles to spread at a variety of sideways angles.
As long as I had the phone out, I saw a series of interesting shapes and designs as I walked toward the house. They have become my “Driveway Series.” It’s always difficult for me to single out one image, and in this case, I think they all belong together, to be viewed like links on a chain.
There is a story I remembered that I wasn’t able to tell before yesterday’s interview ended. I’ve hesitated to share it because it is really Cyndie’s to tell, but we have continued to laugh about it long enough that I think you all will get a chuckle out of it, too.
While in California last week, she and her friends visited a Korean spa for special salt-scrub massages. Cyndie and one of the friends had experienced a luxuriously dreamy steam and body exfoliation treatment on gold marble at a Middle Eastern spa in Vancouver years back and had visions of reliving that experience. However, this traditional Korean sauna did things differently.
Some highlights that Cyndie pointed out include the mandatory absence of any covering on their bodies to keep the water clean for all customers. After showering, they soaked in a hot tub that was so hot, Cyndie needed to sit up. She was instructed to get back down all the way into the water. When it came time for exfoliation, Cyndie said it felt like the tiny Korean masseuse put on gloves with 60 grit sandpaper and proceeded to “sand” Cyndie’s flesh from top to bottom, front to back. No time for tears, as the scalding hot coconut milk was poured over her and she was told to wash her face with it.
Then Cyndie was sent to the showers to wash it all off. Upon returning, it was time for the hot oil massage. She was ready for the soothing and relaxing massage, but received a bruising, sharp-elbow deep muscle massage.
Now, the part that we’ve been laughing about since. While massaging her, the masseuse finally commented, “Must been bad car accident, eh?”
Cyndie chose not to explain all her scars from joint replacements and other surgeries and simply agreed. Then, while her eyes were closed, she received an unexpected slap of a freezing cold seaweed facial.
The wonderfully sincere Korean woman then commented as she peeled back the seaweed mask, “You must have been very pretty when you were young.” She meant it in the nicest possible way, which makes it all the funnier to us.
The whole experience sounded like a rare massage where Cyndie came out a little tighter than when she went in. At least she came home with a memory to laugh about.
I must say, her back did eventually feel really soft after all the tiny scabs had flaked off.
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Morning Shadows
Yesterday’s sunrise was fun to watch through the windows overlooking the lake, but it was the golden light hitting the walls inside and the shadows cast that triggered me to pull out my phone camera to capture images.
Day two of my assignment at the lake was even easier than the one before. Our contractor, Brad, didn’t take me up on an offer to help lift or carry anything, so it was another day filled with reading, writing, puzzling, sweeping a dusting of snow off the steps, streaming movies and TV shows, and finding ways to somehow make a respectable dent in all the food Cyndie sent up with me.
I looked up from my puzzle and spotted Brad loading a tall, old gas wall heater into his truck he’d uninstalled from Cabin 3. I have no idea how he got it off the wall and down all the stairs by himself. A short while later, he was hoisting the old gas range and oven onto his tailgate that he’d wheeled down on a two-wheel dolly hand truck. He is a very independent worker.
We are done dealing with the smell of micro-leaks of propane from the vintage appliances with no plan to replace them. (I apologize in advance to Thomas, who must cringe at the thought upon reading that sentence.) The small cabin isn’t winterized, and no cooking ever happens there these days. It makes a great overflow space for sleeping in the summer with multiple beds, a full bathroom, a refrigerator, and a kitchen sink.
Don’t know if I’m heading home this afternoon or tomorrow. I won’t complain if I get to stay one more day.
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Lost Ball
Asher’s favorite outdoor toy is a Jolly Ball with a thick rope through it. Sometimes, he just wants to chew on the rope, but mostly, he wants someone to try to take it away from him. A little tug of war, a hearty “kill shake,” and if I don’t show enough interest, he will stand to put his front paws on me to engage in some more aggressive tugging play.
Our goal is usually to get it away from him because when we throw it across the yard, Asher leaps after it with such infectious, joyful energy it fills us with the utmost glee. Then, he races back to us for another round of “please take this from me; no, don’t.”
He stopped for a moment the other day and looked around. It looked to me like he lost the ball.
If he stops playing long enough, I invite him to join me in returning to the warmth indoors since that is where I really want to be after too many minutes of this game in frigid temperatures. His usual reaction at this point is to pounce on the ball again like it’s the first time he’s seen it in weeks. It often takes several tries at ending this game before he lets us “win” and leaves the ball behind.
There are times when we aren’t ready to go in the house but intend to take him for a long walk. If he sees the ball as we just stepped out of the house and bounds after it for chewing, shaking, and tugging, we find ourselves encouraging him to walk first and play later. Yesterday, Cyndie set off down the driveway with Asher, and he carried the ball away, clenching the rope in his teeth as they walked. She said he kept it in his grip the whole way to the lookout knoll with the rocking chairs, back to the barn where Cyndie checked on the waterer, and up to the house again, finally choosing to drop it on the driveway in front of the garage door before they came inside.
He is so attached to this toy we ended up buying a smaller-sized version that we let him have indoors. He took to the little one right away, but I think he prefers the thickness of the rope in the outdoor ball. He seemed so happy to chew on the rock-hard frozen rope during this cold spell that it gave me the idea of setting one of his indoor felt Kong balls outside long enough to freeze. It made it so hard to chomp in order to squeak it that it wasn’t the thrill for him I imagined.
For the record, no ball was actually lost in the activities described in this post. This is Asher I’m writing about. He knows exactly where all his dropped toys are at all times.
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Wild Sunrise
I thought the photo I included in yesterday’s post was an interesting sky but then I captured this view of the sunrise while feeding horses:
Just another day at the office for me.
And I gotta say, these four wonderful horses we take care of have been especially charming to be around lately.
Being a couple of old retired people, Cyndie and I took in a Tuesday matinee at the Hudson Theater to see “A Complete Unknown.” We both thoroughly enjoyed it. I feel sorry for the folks who got upset at the folk festival where Bob Dylan “went electric” in 1965.
It’s really wild to be reclining on the bed in the den with Asher sleeping on me one minute, and then after a mention of the movie idea from Cyndie, find myself sitting in front of the big screen an hour later. If I thought the horses were being charming, Asher is making a case that he is rather irresistible himself.
Timothée Chalamet had me thinking I was hanging out with a young Bob Dylan for a couple of hours there. I found Edward Norton as Pete Seeger to be wonderfully convincing. The movie had me wishing I could relive the unique experience of hearing these Dylan songs for the very first time like so many people in the film were depicted doing.
There are plenty of artists whose music doesn’t grab me until I’ve had time to discover and develop an appreciation for it. I tend to think that would have probably been my experience with Dylan’s early songs if I was old enough at the time to even know they existed. When he was all the rage in the New York folk scene, I was playing with toy trucks in the dirt outside or on the perfectly patterned floor rugs near the bay windows in our old farmhouse.
I do have a memory of hearing “Hurricane” for the first time in 1975 and being mesmerized by the way he told such a dramatic story within the captivating melody.
It’s kind of like looking up to unexpectedly find a fascinating sky at sunrise, unlike anything you’ve seen before.
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Relative Something 