I found this green anole (Anolis carolinensis) grabbing some rays on a warm rock one late January afternoon. Shrouded by foliage, it remained invisible to all but my prying eyes. Perfectly settled in to catch heat streaming in under the dense cover, this hidden dragon never blinked as I stopped for a moment to grab a photo.
“Oh my. What an unfortunate name.”
“Huh?”
“I just happened upon this poor soul’s name while working on this server.”
“What is it?”
“Gay Prince.”
“Oh my.”
“Yes, well, I hope that’s a woman.”
“Do you think their parents hated them?”
“To say the least.”
“But hey, it’s alright because they prefer going by a nickname.”
“What nickname?”
“Queen.”
[a real conversation I had yesterday with a teammate at work]
To analyze the charms of flowers is like dissecting music; it is one of those things which it is far better to enjoy, than to attempt to fully understand.
— Henry T. Tuckermanz
White clover (Trifolium repens)
Henbit (Lamium amplexicaule)
Crowpoison (a.k.a. crow poison or false garlic; Nothoscordum bivalve)
[note this is actually a trivalve, so what’s up with the name?]
Gray field speedwell (Veronica polita)
Common dandelion (Taraxacum officinale)
[if you haven’t already noticed, I love these flowers]
In a vast nothingness of ones and zeros we lose ourselves. How much time succumbs to the ether of the internet? How many moments of significance do we sacrifice at the altar of immediate gratification?
I wonder.
[something that came to mind after speaking to Nathalie this morning at Starbucks]
Change is on the wind, Grendel, and you do sense it, your predator skills attuned as variations and transformations develop around you.
A storm cries out in a sky full of tumultuous writhing, clouds parting briefly to reveal a sun pouring energy into an atmosphere defined by chaos.
A shift in life as we know it grows nearer, more powerful, ready to control our destiny in ways we cannot understand.
A move from known to unknown breeds concern for the familiar we will leave behind in search of the unfamiliar we seek.
A distress for that which we cannot control but which controls us becomes palpable, a heavy thing on the air that clings to each of us like a parasite.
I feel it too, Grendelkitty. Ah, I feel it like a flame against the skin, a moth brushing my cheek with its wings, a terror and a joy wrapped together in one defining moment.
Let’s hope we have the strength we need to survive such frenzied times.