So Glad Spring Has Sprung !
So Glad Spring Has Sprung !
Raked and rolled before the air turned cold and the days became shorter, these bales of harvest hay lay tall in the early morning sunlight awaiting the onslaught of man’s progress at the nearest property adjacent to them. Already foundation work has began, but these sentinels guard their field like it was their last stand..and it may well be. Urban sprawl pushes farther and farther outward, engulfing the natural terrain and man-made abundance contained within her.
Regardless if there is a pasture of a hundred bales or simply a few, the significance is real. They are used as feed for livestock, ground covering for grass seed and even erosion control for the construction which will one day occupy this patch of green earth. In the meantime they will silently stand watch over the hallowed ground bequeathed to them for however long they have. For their charge to protect was without days or years. They will be missed when their job is over. They are worthy of our respect.
Now that daylight extends beyond the darkness, companion growth accompanies the hay as if joining a symphony. Lilies of all sorts are cropping up pell mell and berry bushes are beginning to show signs of vigor. Trees are budding. Spring is certainly on her way. I’ve always lived in places with four seasons. I don’t know what it would be like not to. I suppose both have their pluses and minus’. Whichever temperate zone you live in, I believe there is a plethora of beauty to experience…so go to it !
Little darling, it’s been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it’s been here
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It’s all right, it’s all right… The Beatles, 1969
If squirrels had their own social media this gal would rate highly. Just look at that flamboyant tail-you won’t see many that bushy or multi-colored. And, that pose, viewed from the rear which has become so popular. Then there is that coy expression with a sideways glance as if to say, “What do you have that I don’t have?”. Let’s not forget her marbled eye, cute twitchy nose and tiny whiskers. All of this beauty while balancing steadily on a slider chair with a nonchalant grip on the iron bar. I’m surprised she didn’t take a selfie!
Seriously, this is my last photograph of a squirrel for quite some time, but I couldn’t resist such a beckoning subject. After taking a jet tour through various social media sites recently, I was reminded how much this rodent has in common with humans, social media and self-publication. I mean, how many images can one take of eating out or hugging friends; enjoying a cocktail or describing what makeup to use; vacation photos about how many places one has seen in a day, a week, a month or a year; digitized faces and places which we try so desperately to convince others that are as real as they appear. Egos get stroked and reality choked.
I’m not against sharing good looks, fun moments, fantastic locations, unusual food or exotic experiences. It’s just that we share the ‘fantastic’ so often that our images and texts all tend to blend together into one big melting pot of the same extraordinary. Where are the mundane photos such as of a motorist double-parked because he or she was late to an appointment or a couple hand picking fruit while at the grocery store? How about kids tossing rocks in a stream or dogs simply laying around doing nothing but panting? Corporate meetings where half the attendees are falling asleep or mimes losing their balance while acting on street corners in NYC?
Ordinary doesn’t sell…not on television, in videos, on social media outlets, in magazines or even within our government. And, certainly not through our ‘smart’ phones or tablets where we post and view so much of this extraordinary content. Sensationalism is all the rage and Americans lead the parade. Perhaps my optical lenses need to be cleaned so I can see Americana without the bias. And, hopefully, my perspective will change along with clarity. I really do want to be a part of the sublime-especially when framed within the daily routines of life.
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"The artist exists because the world is not perfect" - Andrei Tarkovsky
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