Shadow realm

What creatures dwell within that place where humans fear to tread, that lightless world brushed in shades of darkness?  What life calls the shadow realm home?

A female green anole (Anolis carolinensis) hunting amongst the branches of verdant shrubs (20080823_11239)

What fate awaits the hapless wanderer who unwittingly seeks shelter within the embrace of shadows?

A mushroom (unidentified) that joined its brethren in a one-day grow-a-thon outside my patio when days of rain finally gave way to calmer weather (20080821_11150)

What birth cares not for the light—fears it even—and wishes for naught save the confines of night wherein it finds all need and all want satiated?

The exuva of a cicada (unidentified) found clinging to a leaf (20080817_11095)

What behemoth of diurnal adulthood springs forth in gloom to unwrap the clothing of childhood so that it might don the skin of the elders?

A southern flannel moth caterpillar (a.k.a. pussy moth, Bolivia bug, puss caterpillar or asp; Megalopyge opercularis) making its way from the upper branches of my photinia bushes to the safety of shade within the dense foliage (20080810_10853)

What flightless flier shields its childhood upon the underbelly of leaves and inside the grasp of sunless vegetation?

A young female black & yellow argiope (a.k.a. yellow garden spider; Argiope aurantia) who has taken up residence on the ceiling of the pigpen at the family farm (20080809_10547)

What mother-to-be satisfies her hunger and plans her children’s future in that place where no light shall ever fall?

A yellow-crowned night-heron (Nyctanassa violacea) perched in the treetops as I passed beneath (20080722_09928)

What predator seeks shelter amongst the dense cover of trees while still mastering the hunt lying before it?

A mushroom (unidentified) with a drop of dew resting between it and a blade of grass (20080614_06544)

What whole being finds itself birthed, matured, given to offspring and caught by death all within the place defined by sunup to sundown, a total life spent in fear of the world of days and longing for the world of nights?

A juvenile toad (Bufo valliceps or Bufo nebulifer) crossing the path in front of me (20080713_09770)

What tiny animal, one no larger than my thumbnail, peruses the unwritten future and exists within the pressing now by succumbing to nocturnal demands that keep it hidden from eyes that cannot see in the dark?

A black carpenter ant (Camponotus pennsylvanicus) milling about on the surface of its nest hidden within the trunk of a tree (20080704_09170)

What large insect scampers diligently in a world devoid of illumination whilst simultaneously facing the dawn with utmost bravery and determination?

We—we humans—are creatures of light, diurnal monsters upon the face of a planet made of perpetual change, one given to fits of brightness so profound as to be blinding and fits of darkness so deep as to be swallowers of whole worlds.

Inhabitants of the shadow realm know not the world we know, and few of them dare invade it, yet equally we of the world of light can never understand that which comes in the darkness, that which feeds on the dim surface of another planet, one both alien and familiar.

Our senses cannot take us there, cannot protect us in that place.

I wonder how much living we fail to notice, fail to understand, simply because we do not possess the faculties to invade that space.

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Photos:

[1] A female green anole (Anolis carolinensis) hunting amongst the branches of verdant shrubs.

[2] A mushroom (unidentified) that joined its brethren in a one-day grow-a-thon outside my patio when days of rain finally gave way to calmer weather.

[3] The exuva of a cicada (unidentified) found clinging to a leaf.  Amazing that such a creature found sufficient leverage on the flimsy support of a single leaf…

[4] A southern flannel moth caterpillar (a.k.a. pussy moth, Bolivia bug, puss caterpillar or asp; Megalopyge opercularis) making its way from the upper branches of my photinia bushes to the safety of shade within the dense foliage.

[5] A young female black & yellow argiope (a.k.a. yellow garden spider; Argiope aurantia) who has taken up residence on the ceiling of the pigpen at the family farm.  It’s quite easy to put one’s head right up against her web, if not against her directly, so be warned when stepping inside the pigpen: keep your head down unless you know what’s above you.

[6] A yellow-crowned night-heron (Nyctanassa violacea) perched in the treetops as I passed beneath.

[7] A common psathyrella mushroom (Psathyrella candolleana) with a drop of dew resting between it and a blade of grass.

[8] A juvenile toad (Bufo valliceps or Bufo nebulifer) crossing the path in front of me.  It stopped when I stopped, and there we both stayed for a wee bit of time as I just looked at it, appreciated it for its youthful beauty.

[9] A black carpenter ant (Camponotus pennsylvanicus) milling about on the surface of its nest hidden within the trunk of a tree.  Watching these large insects is quite fun, especially considering how clumsy they are on their own buildings.

Work in progress

I finished the preliminary redesign of xenogere unseen.  Much work remains as I have only completed the image migration for a tiny fraction of the pictures.

As for the design, I’ll tinker with it a bit more as I continue refining it, but overall I’m quite happy with it.

I wanted to keep it simple, to make the photo the center of the page and the main focus of attention.

As for the overall “Polaroid” look of the theme, I rather like the idea and believe it appropriate for the purpose of the site.  Some will undoubtedly disagree.

That said, the new approach to the photoblog gives me a lot more versatility in modifying or changing the theme.  I already have other designs I’m working on that could eventually go into production, but for now I think I’m happy with the way things are.

One thing this update offers is the ability of users to see the photos in all feed readers.  I hope that comes as a welcome change.

As for the overall photo migration to SmugMug from Zooomr and Flickr, this exercise with xenogere unseen has taught me it will take longer than anticipated.  While I hadn’t planned on doing such a thing, I’ve found it behooves me to reprocess all photos as I transition them.  This increases the quality and corrects some problems I hadn’t the time or expertise to correct along the way.

As I’ve gotten better with photography and the back-end processing of images, I’ve learned things that can improve many of the photos—not the least of which is removing the lossy compression I put into all of them as a security measure and means to keep my bandwidth consumption lower than it otherwise would have been.

But at least I’m on my way.  Once all the photoblog entries have been transitioned and updated, I’ll begin the migration from other hosting services to SmugMug.

Meanwhile, new photos should demonstrate better quality now that I’ve stopped degrading them both intentionally and unintentionally.

With the major work out of the way on xenogere unseen and the tedious effort stretched out ahead of me, hopefully now I can return to somewhat normal content and a regular posting schedule here.

Unseen disruption

After realizing I needed to revamp my photoblog, xenogere unseen, I promptly found several new ways to approach the site.

Unfortunately, they all require a major revamping of the architecture.

This doesn’t mean any posts or comments will be lost.  However, it does mean the site will be essentially crippled while I make the transition.

Once I implement the new theme and presentation system, all existing posts will be blank save the existing title, content and feedback data.  The images will be lost, though, and I can’t help that.

It’s only temporary.

One by one each entry will be updated for the new system, after which the pictures will show up fine.

Remember this if you run over there and see a big ol’ mess.  The disarray is temporary, and I promise to do my best to get everything restored as quickly as humanly possible.

What dark fiend is this?

I awoke just before the clock showed four in the morning.  Sounds of feline mischief beside the bed drew me from slumber.

In that place of being awake enough to hear and see without being so awake that I might as well get up and start my day, I rolled over and looked for the troublemakers.

Grendel and Kazon both sat intently beside the bed.  Grendel appeared to be leading the effort to subdue a shoelace that dangled tauntingly from where I carelessly had tossed some work boots the night before.

I reached down and gently pushed Grendel’s paw away and said something akin to “Please stop doing that.”

Without thinking about it, I grabbed the shoelace, curled it in my hand, then pushed it down into the boot so it could no longer vex The Kids—or my sleep.

But the shoelace had not been the problem.

While I tucked the suspected toy down as far as it would go, something climbed out of the boot and onto my hand.  Perhaps not so much climbed as scampered, skittered even.  And up my arm it came.

Before I could react, it circled back down my arm and around my wrist before climbing down the other side back to the floor, but behind my arm where the resident predators couldn’t reach it.

Needless to say I quickly left that semi-awake/semi-asleep place where I had been, quickly rushed forward to fully aware, and I bounced out of bed with—well, let’s be honest here—I leapt out of bed with a rather unmanly squeal.

It had been large, that much I knew, something moving too quickly to recognize by touch alone yet all too familiar in the worst possible way.  I knew it was a large roach or, as we call them here in the south, a Palmetto bug.

Behemoths no matter how you define the word, these “water bugs” easily reach the size of small cars—like the Lincoln Navigator or Cadillac Escalade.  They can be saddled and ridden cross-country alongside other beasts of burden.  They can stand as tall as a professional basketball player and be as strong as an eighteen-wheeler.

And they fly.

Did I mention they fly?  Not very well, I know, and that’s worse than if they could fly like Air Force fighter pilots.

I turned on the bedroom lights and cranked them up as high as they would go.  The room filled with harsh brightness that caused me to squint.

And thereby lose track of the invader.

But Grendel and Kazon hadn’t lost track of it.  They both had moved down the length of the bed where they stood staring with killer intent.

They stood staring at a pile of laundry.

Damn it!  Can this get any worse?

Unless pushed from its hiding place, the ghoulish creature would have remained hidden, only to creep out into the darkness once I had gone back to bed.

Assuming I’d even get in the bed knowing a demon of ungodly proportions still lurked around that very spot where I would entrust myself to sleep.

So I set about carefully picking through the clothes hoping to roust the devil from its lair.  All the while Kazon and Grendel circled, pawed, watched intently.

When I dislodged a shirt and held it up for a quick shake—in case the doggone villain was trying to hitch a ride out of danger—it rattled loose and flew by my head like a giant projectile weapon forged from disgust.

I leapt.  And it’s possible a wee bit of a scream escaped my lips as I tumbled backward trying to escape.

Yet Grendel immediately jumped into the hullaballoo and came to my rescue.  He had seen where the roach landed.  He masterfully pinned it to the carpet with a strategic placement of his paw.

I reached over, lightly pressed down on his leg and whispered, “Keep it there, Grendel, and don’t let it get away.”  With my other hand I groped behind me until I set my fingers upon the very boot from which the fiend had attacked me.

Boot in hand, fully cocked and loaded, I caressed Grendel out of position long enough for him to lift his foot from the ogre’s back.

And I walloped the bastard several times until all it could do was flinch its legs and try to look peaceful, as though I would fall for such a ruse.

I happily ignored entreaties from The Kids begging me to let them have the toy, let them play with it until it broke.  No such thing was going to happen.

A bit of tissue to protect me from the toxic freak accompanied it into the toilet where it quickly swirled its way into oblivion.

And I was left completely awake, not in any way interested in going back to bed or being in the dark, so I ultimately resigned myself to my fate of being up at four in the morning on a day when I would have to work until ten at night.

I still don’t know if I can go back in the bedroom, let alone sleep in there.  I feel quite certain the leviathan had friends who may well think it their job to avenge its death.

Because she hates you

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I began this post with a bit of humor…

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But then I looked at these images and pondered Kako‘s disposition.

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And then I began remembering precisely why her proclivity for lying on the back of the couch and facing away from everyone else in the room made for an uproarious laughter-fest.

It was Derek who first pointed out this preternatural tendency to demonstrate profound disdain.  As I reviewed these images, I laughed until I cried, and then I cried because I wanted so much for him to see these pictures, to appreciate that Kako remains disgusted by intrusions upon her time, that she still sleeps facing the wall in undeniable revulsion at those why might stare, might rest their prying eyes upon her dainty figure.

She so enjoys this declaration of importance: that she would rather face the wall and rest her eyes upon its stoic, unchanging form than to have to look upon the repulsive faces of us insignificant beings.