Morning flowers: Some kind of mallow, and bees enjoying the coneflowers (when I’m not in their way taking pictures).

White mallow flowers with a few black eyed susans, green foliagePurple cone flowers, black eyed susans and green foliage in background

Heard a chirp at my window ledge just now, looked up and saw that the feeder was empty and a house finch was sitting on the power line. I am fairly certain she was trying to get my attention, as there was nothing else around to chirp at, and as soon as I’d refilled the feeder and it stopped swinging she was back and munching away. I guess this means someone’s at least half domesticated, but I’m not sure who.

And here’s the green heron, inspired by walks along Crabtree Creek. The frame colors are meant to evoke the plumage: red undercoat for the breast feathers, dark blue-green for the wings. I enjoyed this carving!

chip carving of a green heron with marsh grass, tree, dragonflies

That Miami has a professional hockey team is as good a symbol as any of the absurdity of 21st century global culture. If Miami Vice were made today, would they replace the jai alai in the opening credits with hockey? Go outside and play, boys.

Having spent much of the day experimenting with mixing colors of milk paint to evoke the feathers of a green heron, I am now going to make a blackberry cobbler. Futility is resistance.

New carvings available on the website.

chip carving of a bluebird flying over a meadow of flowers

Multicolor flowers in the yard

Many multicolor flowers in the yard

Twice this week I’ve been glad to have my monocular (a.k.a. spyglass) with me on hikes. Today I got a good, long look at a green heron in a marsh on Crabtree Creek, standing in patient fishing pose: hunched, dwarfish, dark, and for a moment wildly crowned, but with those unmistakable deadly heron eyes. Tuesday I saw a snake come out of Falls Lake with a fish in its jaws and sit at the water’s edge a minute. Probably a copperhead but the shadows of the leaves threw their own patterns and I wouldn’t swear it wasn’t a Northern water snake. Apparently I’m the only one not fishing.

I’m not much of a gearhead and don’t like carrying extra stuff with me when I’m walking, but I have really enjoyed having the lens. (More than I would enjoy carrying a camera with a telephoto lens, so: no pictures. Sorry.)

My God, the carnage!
Blood red stains the walls, the floor—
Pickled beets. Ten pints.