This week’s Lens-Artist Challenge is all about Delicate, hosted by Ann-Christine at Leya. Reading a few of the responses to her challenge has been inspiring. The challenge is simple:
What is delicate to you? Feel free to use it in any meaning: exquisite, fragile, subtle, elegant…etc.
Sometimes I feel I see delicacy everywhere. Clouds appear delicate with their soft, fluffy forms.
Several weeks ago, these tussock moth caterpillars decided to hang out on the siding of our house. They seem so delicate that I’d be hesitant to touch them, which is a good thing because their “fur” can be irritating to human skin.
I believe I featured this little guy on my blog sometime ago. I think he’s a perfect candidate for this challenge, as he tries to maintain his grip on the lip of a large planter.
Butterflies are a natural example of nature’s delicacy, or fragility.
Finally, a photo that I had been wanting to share for a long time. While some might not see the alligator as a “delicate” creature, I do. Despite the facts that they can live to a ripe old age, and that they have been around seemingly for eternity, their habitat (and thus their existence) is always prey to that delicate balance between the needs of Nature and the wants of humans.
Although I was using the zoom on my iPhone camera, I was closer to this mama than I would normally allow myself. She was in the water and I was on a bridge, leaning over the railing, so I figure I had time to get away if needed. If she had been on land with her babies, we wouldn’t have even stopped. She had five babies with her, and I want to believe that she knew I meant no harm. The photo doesn’t do justice to actually being there. It felt like a gift, being to view this mother with her little ones.
I was so glad they were in the water.
Can a cat be delicate? Maybe not these two.
If you choose to participate in this challenge, you might be careful of using flowers as next week Sofia will go Floral.
Please remember to use the Lens-Artist tag if you are participating, and to link to Ann-Christine’s original post.
Many if not most of you in the U.S. might have had the pleasure of viewing a partial solar eclipse. If you were really lucky, you saw the total solar eclipse. We were not lucky.
After successfully viewing a total solar eclipse in Casper, Wyoming, in 2017, we wanted to do it again but this time, we wanted to leave the planning to someone else. A few years ago, my husband signed us up with a tour group that planned to view the total solar eclipse near San Antonio, Texas. Let me say at the outset that Twilight Tours was great. They took care of the hotel arrangements, food, and transportation to and from the viewing site in Uvalde. There were upwards of 400 people on the tour, but it went smoothly. Except for the eclipse itself.
As late as the evening before, we all remained hopeful that the clouds that were predicted to bump up against the Texas coastline would break up, giving us at least some opportunities to view this amazing event.
The viewing site was at the Uvalde County Arena, a fairplex that includes a rodeo arena, pavilion, and RV parking stations. It’s also across from the county jailhouse, pictured above.
As the day progressed, our hopes sank. In the above 180-degree panoramic view, you can see only a patch or two of blue sky.
For the rest of the afternoon, the sky stayed pretty much as it looked in the above photo. The clouds were moving quickly, though, and occasionally–especially right before totality, during totality, and just after–we got glimpses of the eclipse. I didn’t have a solar filter for my iPhone camera, but, in a way, I did get a photo of the total solar eclipse.
When the moon covered the sun, night fell. Outdoor lights came on, and the landscape became otherworldly. Above is another 180-degree panoramic of the site. Both the above and below photos were taken at 1:30 pm, give or take a few seconds.
Some might say our trip was a bust. In fact, a few days before we were set to leave, we seriously considered not going because of the dismal weather forecasted for San Antonio.
Our experience in seeing the total solar eclipse in 2017 will never be topped; at least, I can’t imagine a more exceptional experience. It was my first time, it was our wedding anniversary, and my husband got some amazing photos that day. (If you missed it, you can read about that experience in this post.)
While this experience wasn’t exceptional, it was nonetheless interesting, fun, and fascinating. The only thing(s) I really missed were our kitties.
Raji (ginger cat) and Wendy (Tortieco) in front of our windows.
Now, your turn: Did you see any of the eclipse? Would you rate our viewing as a bust or success? Have you ever invested in a trip only to not go, no matter the cost?
This week’s Lens-Artists challenge is hosted by Patti at https://pilotfishblog.com. She asks us to consider: ”what makes a photo dramatic? Maybe it is processed in black and white, or it has vivid colors. Maybe a person, place, or object is captured from a unique perspective or it is a macro shot. This week, we’ll explore some characteristics of dramatic images and some ways to add drama to photos.”
Whenever I want to see something dramatic, all I have to do is look up.
A crescent moon high in a night sky has a sense of the dramatic.
Then there are sunsets as viewed from our patio.
Clouds don’t need color to be dramatic. Do you see an angel in one of these photos?
The open sky of St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge is often dramatic.
The evening sky at Elinor Klapp-Phipps Park, a once-favorite place to hike, could be dramatic at times.
(These photos were taken about 10 years ago. That’s the back of my head in the first one.)
Finally, no drama here. Just a warm memory of Raji getting cozy with “uncle” Junior (RIP).
Next week’s challenge will be led by Ann-Christine/Leya, so be sure to visit her site next Saturday for some inspiration.
This week’s challenge comes from Amy of The World is A Book. She asks us to share our “cloudscapes over land, sea, or cities, or just clouds.” I love clouds and am often looking up to see what they’re doing, and just as often I trip over my feet trying to take photos of them. I knew I had a lot of photos of clouds stashed on my computer so I was up for this challenge. I slogged through, selecting this one and that one when I came to my collection of sunset photos taken when we were in Savannah, Georgia. They still take my breath away, although my photos don’t do true justice to what we saw that evening. The photos were taken in January 2016 with an iPhone 5S. No filters. Seriously, the colors you’ll see here are the colors I saw with my naked eyes.
I started “snapping” photos at about 4:23 PM and finished close to 6:00 PM. The scenery will change because I took photos at different angles along the Savannah River. Enjoy.
I hope you enjoyed this series. If you want to join in, make a link to Amy’s original post (click here) and tag Lens-Artists so you can be found through the WP Reader.
Yes, indeed, I had the dreaded MRI. Events happened so fast, I barely had time to be afraid. Here’s what happened.
On a Wednesday morning, I saw my chiropractor. I had already decided to request an MRI. A “new” pain was affecting the right side of my neck so I was done playing the game of patience. He anticipated me and thought out loud about how to proceed: should he jump through the insurance company’s hoops or should he ask my primary physician to jump? He decided on the latter, made some adjustments to my back that only a chiropractor can make, and sent me on my way.
That afternoon (yes, that very afternoon), my primary physician’s office called to say that my docs had talked to each other, and I needed to make an office visit with my primary doc (one of the hoops we both jump through). To our surprise, a morning slot was available on Friday. Yes, that Friday, less than 48 hours away.
I met with my primary physician who was motivated to get me an MRI. She ran a few assessments on me, to check my strength and resistance. They were worried about stenosis, about the possibility that my nerves were being compressed. Sound familiar? Severe spinal stenosis was what my husband had surgery for last June. If he has stenosis and I have stenosis, does that mean it’s contagious?
My doc proceeded to caution me that if I have the MRI, and, based on the results, she refers me to a neurosurgeon, she will expect me to be compliant. She lectured me on the risk of developing atrophy in my arms. I didn’t need the lecture. I let her know that I understood, that my husband had had to fight to get an MRI and be seen by a neurologist. Although she was wearing a mask, I could tell she winced.
I asked if she would prescribe drugs for me. She said she usually didn’t. I said I was claustrophobic. She asked if Valium would be okay. You know my answer.
That afternoon (yes, that very afternoon), my primary physician’s office calls to tell me I’ve been scheduled for an MRI. The appointment was for that coming Wednesday morning.
Okay, that was some pretty fast scheduling. Here’s the kicker: I had to show up at 6:45 am.
Not only am I not a morning person, but I am also a retired, not-a-morning person. I concede that, for the past month, I’ve been getting up before 7:30 am to feed our cats and then walk for a couple of miles in my neighborhood. That’s different. I don’t brush my teeth, wash my face, or even put on clean clothes (sorry if this is too much information) to go for my walks. The key to successfully walking in the morning is to do as little preparation as possible. Going to a facility where I’ll have to interact with people is a whole other thing. Plus, I’d need Greg to drive me since I have to take the Valium an hour before my appointment.
Greg took it all in stride. Let’s make an adventure out of it. Let’s try and find a place to have breakfast! I don’t know why, but Tallahassee has very few restaurants open for breakfast, other than the usual Village Inn, Waffle House, and iHop. We found a place close by and … it was okay. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
We arrived at Radiology Associates with me starting to feel pretty good. Check-in was efficient and, before I knew it, I was being escorted to the locker room. Everything but underwear and socks came off; hospital gown was put on and then I stood in the hallway for a while, waiting, but not for long.
I asked if I could go in feet first, but the technician said no. He helped me put in earplugs and draped a blanket over me. As he adjusted the cloth around my head, I drifted back to all the times I’d ever been in a hospital, all the times I yielded to someone else’s care of me. I closed my eyes.
Dang, those MRIs are LOUD!
I don’t know how long I was in there. Maybe 20 minutes, but I was surprised and even a little disappointed when it was over. On to the Egg Cafe and breakfast! I got scrambled eggs with Greek trimmings and Greg got an omelet with smoked salmon. Our meals must have been sitting awhile because the eggs weren’t hot; they were the cool side of warm. We were too hungry to complain, but, chances are, we won’t be going back.
That evening (yes, that very same evening), my primary physician’s office called with the MRI results. No “spinal column compression,” but several bulging discs. So, good news and meh news. Next stop is an orthopedist and that appointment is a month away. Meanwhile, I continue my cold/heat therapy. although haphazardly. I’ve resumed my yoga practice and lifting light weights at the gym. I do chin tucks and neck stretches. I do what I can to avoid surgery.
Even though my doc prescribed just one 5 mg tablet of benzodiazepine, I was in withdrawal on Thursday. Totally sunk into a funk. What can I say? When it comes to drugs and alcohol, I’m a lightweight.
Red-shouldered hawk in tree.
The above photo is one reason why I go for morning walks. The next two are from this morning, the first at the beginning of my walk, the next at the end of my walk.
And here is a gratuitous cat photo: Junior throwing me a little shade.
Junior tries to snooze while his mom plays paparazzi.
I usually go walking and that helps to a point. I am still grieving for Maxine. I guess that’s no surprise, but I didn’t expect to fall into a depression, one that I’m still trying to climb my way out of. Although it’s not fair to use my husband as a therapist, I’ve been doing that and it helps … to a point. He can’t fix my brain. Only I can do that.
I haven’t worked on my novel. I’ve only gotten as far as printing a revision and editing guidebook developed by the good folks at NaNoWriMo and signing up for a webinar with the awesome Allison Williams that is designed to help writers finish their book. Baby steps.
Further complicating my depression is some chronic achiness and weakness I’ve been having in my left shoulder and arm for a few weeks now. I finally got to see my chiropractor who sent me off for x-rays and told me to do cold/heat therapy as often as possible (20 minutes cold/20 minutes heat/40 minutes cold/40 minutes heat). A full round of therapy is two hours so I have to plan accordingly. The good news per the x-rays is that my nerves do not appear to be compressed. The bad news is my cervical osteoarthritis has worsened: more bone spurs, less cartilage. But, per my chiropractor, the deteriorating is “age-appropriate.” You know, no one ever used the phrase “age-appropriate” until after I turned 60. Just saying.
I go back to my chiropractor in a few days and, if all goes well (meaning the cold/hot therapy works), then I won’t need further treatment. If not, then he’ll refer me to a spinal orthopedist who will probably want to do an MRI which I do not want to do because I am claustrophic. I don’t care if they give you drugs to relax you. Just the thought of my head being in a small space is enough to send me into hysterics.
In the meantime, no yoga, no lifting with my left arm. But at least I can walk!
I am trying to get into the habit of going for a walk first thing in the morning, weather permitting. I used to do that but fell out of the habit some months ago. So far I’ve walked three mornings in a row, and it’s getting easier. I take my hot tea with me and that’s really kind of nice. I can’t drink and walk at the same time. I don’t have that kind of equilibrium, so I have to stop when I want to take a sip. I enjoy those moments, especially when there’s a hawk nearby to observe.
In the photo above, you should see a very small dark spot atop a branch in roughly the center of the photo. That’s a hawk.
The clouds were so interesting that morning. I would have enjoyed looking up at them all day if it weren’t for the literal pain in my neck.
Walking is therapeutic. While I sort out life without Maxine, I’ll keep walking. While I avoid working on my novel, I’ll keep walking.
St. Marks National Wildlife Refuge, Stony Bayou, March 29, 2021
I’ve been down this dike before with you. I often veer off our path gaping at clouds in the wide blue sky, shuttering a desire to leave my bike and explore the bayous. It’s why we’re here, to feel the expanse of nature, the filling of our souls. Often ordinary but glorious cumulus clouds fill the sky.
There are clouds today but these clouds are clearly foreign, such an exotic clutter against the blue cloth of the sky. Thin cotton rolls layer above our heads. Is this what they call a “mackerel sky,” I wonder but don’t ask out loud. You wouldn’t hear me anyway. You’re too far ahead. I always fall behind when we travel this dike. I want to stretch my arms, embrace the whole of the sky. I fall in love with these clouds like I fell in love with you.
***
I’m participating in Merril’s prompt for dVerse Prosery Monday. Click here if you want to join in. Frankly, I have no idea what I’m doing, but I seem to be attracted to challenges where I’m limited to 144 words or less. I suspect it’s because I’m working on a novel … lol.
If you’re new to my blog and want to know how this road trip began, click here for the first post. For our time in Casper, Wyoming, click here. For our experience with the Total Solar Eclipse, click here.
We left Wyoming in good spirits. Interstate 25 was a pleasant drive, even if the speed limit was 80. I’m a speed limit driver for the most part so it irks me when drivers in the right lane try to push me (seemingly literally at times) to go faster. No such anxiety in Wyoming. Believe it or not, drivers on I25 were pretty laid back. So laid back that I actually did drive the speed limit in order to pass RVs that were chugging up hills. I was comfortable with the attitude of the drivers around me who didn’t seem to care how fast or slow anyone else was driving, as long as no one made a fuss about it. You see, deep down, I hate driving. If I could live my life, traveling included, without ever having to set foot on a gas pedal, I would happily do so.
But I digress. And that relaxing exit out of Wyoming wasn’t going to last anyway.
We turned south, our destination Trinidad, Colorado. Yes, there is a Trinidad in Colorado and the town has a pretty interesting history. It was once known as the “Sex Change Capital of the World.” You can read all about it on Wikipedia: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trinidad,_Colorado.
My husband picked Trinidad because it was only a few hours from the border with New Mexico and we had business to attend to in Colorado. Anyway, traffic picked up once we left Wyoming. Makes sense, we thought. More people, less land. We stopped in Fort Collins to fill up our stomachs as well as the Prius and to have a look-see. It seemed like a nice town although pretty congested with cars and humanity.
Hell began as soon as we got back on the interstate. From Fort Collins to Colorado Springs, it was bumper-to-bumper traffic across all five lanes of the interstate. Sometimes we sat in traffic. Sometimes we crawled. Often other drivers would cut in front of us as if leap frogging in stop-and-go traffic was an intelligent design. Twice we almost had a fender bender.
Hell on wheels
The worst part was seeing time slip away from us. We wouldn’t get to Trinidad before dark. I made the most of it by taking pictures, of course.
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I had driven us to Fort Collins and then my husband manned the steering wheel, assuming he would take us all the way into Trinidad. He couldn’t do it. Sixty miles outside the town, the sun already set, he pulled over and we switched out. I’m not a fan of driving at night, especially when I don’t know where I am. It was very very dark along this part of I25 and all I could do was follow the red lights of the traffic in front of me. Finally, close to 9 pm, my husband woke from his much-needed nap and navigated me to the Holiday Inn. Once we were settled in our room, it was all I could do to take a shower and crawl into bed.
This particular Holiday Inn had a restaurant so the next morning we treated ourselves to a proper breakfast, our conversation peppered with promises to never drive I25 through Colorado ever again. We had a bit of time to spare before heading for Santa Fe, so we first took care of some personal business and then went on a drive through downtown. Yes, I wish I had taken pictures of what looked like 200-year-old buildings lining the main street. We were exploring but we were also on a mission. Greg wanted to wash the car. We found an old-time car wash … the kind where you plunk in change (only now you can use your credit car) and wield a hose and brush yourself. While he washed the car, I took the opportunity for a couple of photos.
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Finally we were on our way to Santa Fe. I drove so I couldn’t take pictures but trust me when I say that this section of I25, between Trinidad and Santa Fe, was just beautiful. Clouds, clouds, clouds. I joked to Greg that he could spend the rest of his life just taking time-lapses of the clouds, they were so many and so varied. You could see dark storm clouds off in the distance to your left, and fluffy snow-white clouds on your right. The landscape was fairly green and vast.
For Santa Fe, we had decided to stay at an Airbnb. This is only the fourth time we’ve used Airbnb but each time has been a great experience. What I like best is that we’re able to stay in a neighborhood, be around residents, not just other tourists. It gives us a better feeling for what it might be like to live in the city we’re visiting. Plus, you can dine at home and save $$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$.
I had reserved the Sunny Adobe Casita for three nights. Within five minutes of looking around, Greg asked if we could possibly stay an extra night.
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Unfortunately at the time, the Sunny Adobe Casita was already booked for the next two months so we couldn’t stay an extra night. Just as well since by the time we left we were planning a route home that would keep us north of Hurricane Harvey.
Next week I’ll wrap up my travelogue with our trip to the Georgia O’Keefe Museum and Hyde Memorial State Park for more clouds.
Marie at 1 Write Way 