Thy summer’s play,
My thoughtless hand
Has brush’d away.
Am not I
A fly like thee?
Or art not thou
A man like me?
For I dance
And drink & sing;
Till some blind hand
Shall brush my wing.
If thought is life
And strength & breath;
And the want
Of thought is death;
Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live,
Or if I die.
William Blake, Songs of Experience
As LP will tell you herself, she is an outdoor girl. Any chance she gets, she is climbing rocks and trees, digging in the dirt, hunting for worms, and cooking up dandelion stews. One of her favorite pastimes of all: ant watching! 🙂
Four in the Morning
The hour from night to day.
The hour from side to side.
The hour for those past thirty.
The hour swept clean to the crowing of cocks.
The hour when earth betrays us.
The hour when wind blows from extinguished stars.
The hour of and-what-if-nothing-remains-after-us.
The hollow hour.
The very pit of all other hours.
No one feels good at four in the morning.
If ants feel good at four in the morning
–three cheers for the ants. And let five o’clock come
if we’re to go on living.
Translated by Magus J. Krynski and Robert A. Maguire
From Sounds, Feelings, Thoughts: Seventy Poems by Wislawa Szymborska (Princeton UP, 1981)
I have many, many photographs to share from my trip to Maine, but now, before I’ve even shared a handful, I’m heading off to the beach for another week of vacation with my family.
Before I go, I’d like to share my capture (taken in Maine) of a dragonfly wolfing down a bee.
I had an extraordinary encounter the other day when I was on my way to visit my usual wasp nest. I heard a loud buzzing near me, and after looking around realized that right in front of me on the sidewalk I was witnessing a murder. I had my camera in hand, but it was in manual mode and the wasp was moving so quickly that I could only snag a few shots. This very large wasp, known as the Cicada Killer Wasp, had stung and paralyzed its prey: the poor victim you see being dragged on its back in the first shot. I crouched down to get the shot, and before I knew it, the wasp had zoomed over to a nearby tree, where it made its way, fluttering its wings as it climbed, up to a branch out of my sight. It all happened so quickly that I was happy to come away with any images at all. I guess the wasp wanted some privacy to enjoy his kill.
I want to thank everyone who has been sticking with me over the past several days. I’m so grateful for your comments and visits. Later this week, I’m going to stop posting for a while. I’ll be on vacation– where I’ll be taking lots of photographs, since I’ll be in the deep woods and on the coast: great locations for macro mania–but this will give me the chance to spend some time catching up on all of your blogs during that time as well, something I’m looking forward to doing. So, soon, you’ll see me roaming around your neck of the blogosphere. In the meantime, thank you, thank you for all of your encouraging words and for taking the time to stop by.