xenogere

Some places are less lonely than others

Posted on Oct 29, 2008 by jason.

Standing atop the hill at Winfrey Point and looking west across White Rock Lake, I am faced with a vast field of wildflowers, the towering presence of trees, and a bench hewn from stone and wood.  Surrounding this spot live the many wonders of a natural oasis tucked neatly into an urban sprawl that constantly presses in from all sides.  Here, in the absence of people, being alone means something quite different—and less lonely—than it does elsewhere.

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Shadow and light

Posted on Oct 29, 2008 by jason.

Loki resting on my lap as sunlight falls over half his face.

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Happy birthday, with an h!

Posted on Oct 29, 2008 by jason.

For dearest nathalie.  Today’s her birthday after all…

A threesome of Engelmann Daisies (Engelmannia pinnatifida) facing the early morning sun at White Rock Lake.

A morning bouquet of unidentified flowers thriving in the shade of woodlands.

[I intentionally overexposed these images as I found the process resulted in a stunning display of the contrast between the golden flowers and the breathtaking greenery that surrounded them]

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The fantasy

Posted on Oct 28, 2008 by jason.

In places I do not travel you see me, and therein I meet you for the first time over and over again.

Your caresses, which I do not feel, tremble me like the earthquake does the mountain, and I am reduced to rubble by your every touch that never did occur.

The things you do not say but that I hear shake me as the breeze shakes the flower.  Would that I might stand as nobly as those petals no one else sees.

Each time we kiss, though we have never kissed before and will never kiss again, whole worlds move and form and die and shape the presence of a universe made manifest.

No other recognizes me in your presence.  How could they when I no longer recognize myself?

Though you do not know my name and I do not know yours, we have always been together this way, hearts joined by a gulf of time, spirits embracing one another with the unknowing of knowledge.

My soul bleeds when you leave my presence.

I hope we meet soon.

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Pelicans

Posted on Oct 26, 2008 by jason.

The American white pelican (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos).  Quite large.  Cooperative fishers.  Gregarious.  Blindingly white but for the stark black trailing edge of the wingtips.

They visit year after year.  When the whole gang comes together, it can be a fantastical sight as these behemoths glide in silently for a smooth water landing.  They soar near the water’s surface with the grace of a ballerina and the power of a jet airplane.

Consummate and gifted fishers who do not dive like their brown brethren but instead swim along and dunk their heads underwater to catch fish, often doing so in a group effort that herds fish together for easy pickings, these birds have also been known to consume the occasional pigeon—and to try to consume an occasional cat.

Overwintering at White Rock Lake but not living here the rest of the year, these gentle giants offer a splendid cold-weather diversion from gray skies and chilly temperatures.  Their magnificence shines through even when the world around them is barren and desolate.

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