The Dooryard. January 4, 2011
Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature.Tags: dooryard, prayer flags, snow
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I snapped this one off during our most recent “snow event,” which yielded less than advertised but enough to make things look seasonally appropriate:
This is looking out our stove-room window past a [not-lit] bamboo star and prayer flags, and was taken not so much to document the weather event as to check out the continuous-focus feature of my camera (I was panning, and only saved this one,) but I liked the image enough to share it.
The snow’s about gone now and we’re into a Mini-Mud Season, which is inherently butt-ugly, so shooting may be light ’till we get more winter.
Guess it’s time to finish processing my Cape Cod photos…
Ruby Tuesday – Randomly Rubilicious! October 4, 2010
Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, macro photos, Ruby Tuesday!.Tags: Bridge of Flowers, Cheshire, dahlias, dragon fly, farm shed, Orcutt Hill, prayer flags, rainbow, sunset
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Here are a few rubilicious shots from the past few days.
A barn peeks through the rain-soaked woods along a country road:
A farm shed in Cheshire:
Dahlias on the Bridge of Flowers:
Dragonfly wings:
A rainbow in the last light of the day wreaths our barn:
And lastly, sunset in the opposite direction:
Sorry for the hodge-podge of images, but they were all varying degrees of ruby, so I threw them in the pot. 😉
For more Ruby images, visit Mary over at Work of the Poet!
In The Dooryard. August 18, 2010
Posted by littlebangtheory in Art and Nature, Dinner with TCR.Tags: dooryard, fire, ice cream, leftovers, prayer flags
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Dinner in the dooryard tonight. Leftovers from a long list, lightening the fridge, with fresh touches from the garden. Curries, salsas, chicken and ribs, refried succotash with local corn, implausibly sweet and spicy. The light fading, the fire holding back the night as crickets and cicadas call forth the half-moon and stars.
It’s beautiful out here, warmed by the fire, cooled by a gentle breeze, a confused margin tracing a wavering curve up the side of my face.
Yawning, stretching, I say goodnight and reluctantly retire to my second floor bedroom; five o’clock comes early for this boy.
At the window I fidget with the fan, then notice my housemate Holly, still by the fire, perhaps contemplating a bit of her home-made peach and basil ice cream. I grab my camera and set up for a thirty second exposure; it looks like this:
Flames flicker, prayer flags flutter, and I’m off to dream the dreams of summer.
Good night.