A new dragonfly friend on an autumn day

 

A black saddlebags dragonfly on a leisurely autumn day.

I like dragonflies. I don't know if they like me, but this one did . I took nearly a hundred photos of him today before I got tired of it and he didn't. I had to walk away or go bug-eyed.

I like dragonflies mostly because they never before seemed to like me. When I see them on hot summer days they are usually too busy to bother with me, zig-zagging around at the speed of light over water trying to catch bugs to eat, or whatever they do. I thought maybe they never liked me because of that. I'm not a small tasty bug, so I guess they didn't care about me.

This black saddlebags dragonfly caught my eye. I hadn't saw one before, or at least I didn't remember seeing one. He's so unusual with those saddlebags that I would have remembered. I didn't.

My camera was inside, so I put the dog back on his leash and ran in to get it. Marvin was a little confused, since we came right back out. I hoped the weird-looking dragonfly was still there, and it was.

I got as close as I could with my lens and thought he'd say oh no, no you don't. He didn't. I think I could have gone up to him and kissed him, but I didn't like him that much. 

I think maybe he had had enough of life.

What else could explain the utter lack of interest he had in fleeing from me. It's autumn, and bugs don't like that season. It's when they die.

I hoped that wasn't the case, but it is the way of the world.

When that season comes around to just sit there and do nothing, waiting for the end, that's just what we do, insects and people, too.

I hope I don't find him on the ground the next time I go out.

It's not where either of us want to be.

Book review: The Age of Fat Asses

 

Pieter Pullin Holdemtite is so large and so great a messiah in Pineville's Holy Church of Knee-Sniffers that he has to be born of two mothers. He comes out in two pieces, a top and a bottom, and has to be glued together.

His mothers are consumed at birth by locusts, which lead him to hate all bugs, and his father is a worthless drunk and is soon killed by his son. 

Pineville is under attack by outsiders, and the Distinguished Fat Asses install Pieter as judge, jury and executioner of anyone who dares cross into town. 

Seven feet tall and seven feet around, Pieter overwhelms his victims in a manner befitting a giant with a huge appetite for cows and bugs. 

Although he's immense after just a few months of life, his mental faculties have not developed beyond those of a three-year-old, until a beautiful, red-haired young woman, Sarah Lesthanluki, is presented to him as a victim. 

He falls in love and can not kill her, but she is not accepted by the Distinguished Fat Asses. 

Sarah and Pieter meet and love secretly, until the inevitable betrayal.

On Amazon at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08ZYSTP1V

Grim weather and a grim prognosis

The news is not good for my sweet old boy and photography friend.

The weather around here has been grim for five days. It's cooled down from summer and rained dismally for so long that it seems like forever.

The worst part is, my old photography pal Marvin, who's accompanied me on most mornings on my nature photography journeys, had a terminal diagnosis early in this stretch of bad weather.

Terrible news makes bad weather worse.

Marvin is 13, an advanced age for a lemon beagle. He has the disposition of a saint when we're indoors and the disposition of a devil when he sees a rabbit or squirrel outside. He goes crazy while I'm photographing and one of those devious little creatures shows up, making it just about impossible to get the shot.

I don't mind much, and try to take it with good humor. He's got his needs and I have mind.

Marvin has an enlarged heart. Most likely it's from a faulty valve, which makes it more difficult for the heart to pump blood. Working harder, the heart enlarges and presses against the trachea and allows the lungs to fill with fluid, since the heart beat isn't powerful enough to push the fluid along.

The veterinarian says he has six months to a year to live.

He coughs, sometimes endlessly. The coughing can be terrible. It keeps both of us awake some nights, which adds to the utter misery of the situation.

The weather reflects this misery and enlarges it.

I'm feeding Marvin better food, real food like chicken and chicken livers and kale cooked in chicken broth, along with bone broth. He loves it and the coughing has improved, become less severe. He seems happy and remains the sweetest dog on earth.

Six months to a year.

Who knows when the weather will break?

A day of satisfaction for a red-tailed hawk

A red-tailed hawk could not have been happier with this late-summer day.

 Fear is a constant companion of most creatures in nature.

Nietzsche said that one of mankind's greatest achievements was the elimination of the terror humans felt of many wild animals. We go outside without a second thought, without the fear something might rip us to pieces with a sudden attack.

That's not the case with most creatures.

It helps if you happen to be a predator, like this beautiful red-tailed hawk, but as a human try to get close to one and you'll find he feels terror, too.

So it was strange when at the park this morning that I drove right below this hawk on my way out and stopped to photograph her.

She couldn't have cared less.

I managed to take over fifty pictures of this lovely creature from twenty feet away without as much as a twitch from her.

She looked down, looked to the side and looked right at me.

It didn't matter.

This red-tailed hawk must have spotted a
mouse or other prey below. It didn't matter.
She might have been full or just enjoying
the sunny day.

What a rare thing it is to be able to relax, for birds or for us.

Nietzsche might have been right about our eliminating our fear of wild animals, but we unleash a thousand other terrors when inside alone surrounded by four walls and locked windows and doors.

It's as though we're conditioned by nature to fear, and if we can't find our fears outside, we create them inside ourselves and inside our houses.

Why can't we relax? Do we need terror to survive?

I suppose our minds are our greatest enemies at times.

But there is no greater terror than the terror of the self.

This hawk could relax because she didn't have that fear of self. She wasn't human.

For her, a fine summer day was just that.

Without anxiety, we can live in the moment.

Take a lesson from a hawk. Relax.

Spewing hate is the norm

 Just a few minutes ago, as I was coming home from the organic market and turning right off of the highway, the car in front of me pulled over in my driveway.

I did not know this car or person. The tags were from another state.

The passenger opened his door and vomited on the macadam.

The door closed and the SUV was on its way.

If a person is sick, that person deserves relief from the sickness.

But not by spreading the disease.

It got me to thinking.

Isn't that what's happening in this country today?

There is all sorts of illnesses around, both physical and mental.

Many do their best to see that if they are sick, you should be, too. 

Many wish you to remain as sick as possible, since then can then claim to be the cure. You are then under their control.

It's sad to say, it's not always evident who is ill and who is not. A demagogue can claim to be the healthiest person in the world.

Then they vomit out hate and tell you to do the same.

Chose wellness, not hate.

Hate disgusts as deeply as vomit.