A nice crisp, clear, sunny Saturday morning! Not much to say this morning, and I don't want to spend much time blogging because I want to get some painting done today. I'm working on a series of cartoon cats from the 1960's (in oil) and Felix is waiting for his finishing touches. No sign-gazing or fox sightings this morning, just a brisk walk around the perimeter of the island as the sun began its climb, smiling down through the trees on Nicollet Island.
Here is the first image that caught my eye--the sun rising in the east amidst a tetrad of smokestacks. I was standing in front of De La Salle High School, aiming my camera between the obliquely rising support beams of the Hennepin Bridge. Pollution can be quite lovely at times. It's pretty cold and handling the camera is no picnic, but it's above zero, so who am I to complain? It's very quiet, and passing underneath the bridge, I note that the mysterious stashed bundle remains where someone had left it.
I continue on toward the southerly (south-easterly, if truth be told) tip of the island, where I stop behind the Nicollet Island Pavilion, on the wooden deck of an outdoor patio that provides a very nice perspective on downtown, and on the inexorably flowing river's progress as it tumbles over its concrete spillway and onward to St. Paul and beyond.
And here's a little perspective on the appearance of yours truly this fine morning, aka 'The Masked Avenger.' In case you were wondering--yes, that getup really is necessary, especially the balaclava. The gloves are crap and I desperately need a new pair, but for the moment, they're better than nothing. I now sacrifice my comfort to give you the dubious pleasure of seeing the Avenger unmasked.
This is my early morning, pre-grooming hairdo, when I'm not expecting to run into anyone, or at least not while unmasked. I wouldn't want to give away my secret identity. There wasn't much danger of that this morning--there was no other sign of life afoot beyond a couple of joggers to whom I was all but invisible. Which was okay with me--I'll be more sociable after a shower.
My final picture is of this tender sapling-- a cool little tree. I know it's cool because the tag attached to one of its branches told me so ("Trees are Cool"). The tag also exhorted me to plant a tree, so perhaps while I am living on this island I will make a point of doing so. It's not the best shot, since the sun is shining in the background, but to my eye it does possess a quality of stark beauty, imbued meanwhile with the evidence of man's tamperings with nature. Why do we feel the need to tag trees? Bird's ankles? The necks of animals we strap with collars and call our pets? We have a proprietary bent, we humans. We like to think we can subjugate nature, control her, bend her to our will. Then a hurricane or tornado or earthquake comes along, and all of our tags are shaken to the ground or blown away in the winds, along with our airs of superiority and invulnerability. And the next day, we tag something new. And we survive.
Life flows on, in and around us--we can name it and put a tag on it, but nothing will prevent it from behaving in accordance with the law of its make.
D.E.S.
Here is the first image that caught my eye--the sun rising in the east amidst a tetrad of smokestacks. I was standing in front of De La Salle High School, aiming my camera between the obliquely rising support beams of the Hennepin Bridge. Pollution can be quite lovely at times. It's pretty cold and handling the camera is no picnic, but it's above zero, so who am I to complain? It's very quiet, and passing underneath the bridge, I note that the mysterious stashed bundle remains where someone had left it.I continue on toward the southerly (south-easterly, if truth be told) tip of the island, where I stop behind the Nicollet Island Pavilion, on the wooden deck of an outdoor patio that provides a very nice perspective on downtown, and on the inexorably flowing river's progress as it tumbles over its concrete spillway and onward to St. Paul and beyond.
And here's a little perspective on the appearance of yours truly this fine morning, aka 'The Masked Avenger.' In case you were wondering--yes, that getup really is necessary, especially the balaclava. The gloves are crap and I desperately need a new pair, but for the moment, they're better than nothing. I now sacrifice my comfort to give you the dubious pleasure of seeing the Avenger unmasked.
This is my early morning, pre-grooming hairdo, when I'm not expecting to run into anyone, or at least not while unmasked. I wouldn't want to give away my secret identity. There wasn't much danger of that this morning--there was no other sign of life afoot beyond a couple of joggers to whom I was all but invisible. Which was okay with me--I'll be more sociable after a shower.
My final picture is of this tender sapling-- a cool little tree. I know it's cool because the tag attached to one of its branches told me so ("Trees are Cool"). The tag also exhorted me to plant a tree, so perhaps while I am living on this island I will make a point of doing so. It's not the best shot, since the sun is shining in the background, but to my eye it does possess a quality of stark beauty, imbued meanwhile with the evidence of man's tamperings with nature. Why do we feel the need to tag trees? Bird's ankles? The necks of animals we strap with collars and call our pets? We have a proprietary bent, we humans. We like to think we can subjugate nature, control her, bend her to our will. Then a hurricane or tornado or earthquake comes along, and all of our tags are shaken to the ground or blown away in the winds, along with our airs of superiority and invulnerability. And the next day, we tag something new. And we survive.Life flows on, in and around us--we can name it and put a tag on it, but nothing will prevent it from behaving in accordance with the law of its make.
D.E.S.
No comments:
Post a Comment