Let them sing

In songs I cannot hold I feel the world touch me.  In places I cannot go I find myself wandering through a landscape of music.  In voices familiar I find unknown friends.

Eastern phoebe (Sayornis phoebe) singing from a tree branch (2009_03_08_012482)

I cannot deny the totality of my failure.  More always can be taken.  I have no escape from that palpable lesson of loss.

A drake wood duck (Aix sponsa) calling out at sunset (2009_02_13_008525)

Yet I find that dark moment at least partially illuminated with the brightness of song, a chorus of voices innumerable and vast.

A female red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus) calling out from the treetops (2009_02_03_006168)

Like carolers some bring their gifts right to my door, yet others I must seek out like opera.

A domestic greylag goose (Anser anser) honking as it swims by (2009_02_03_006504)

The calls of life surround me, blanket me in a warmth that permeates the darkest cold.

A domestic Indian runner (a.k.a. Indian runner duck or runner; Anas platyrhynchos) quacking at sunset (2009_02_03_007053)

Standing witness to this musical legion balms the open sore of failure and begins healing the wounded self.

A Carolina wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus) singing from the bushes surrounding the patio (2009_01_31_005332)

It’s somewhat like taking alms from the universe.

A male great-tailed grackle (Quiscalus mexicanus) calling out (2008_12_07_001616)

Yet I feel no shame in receiving this charity, this gift from those who have it to give.

A male northern mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos) singing from a treetop (2009_02_20_010310)

Let them sing.  And let me lose myself in the singing.

For even today the needful, lonesome calls of mourning doves filled the shadowy hours of dawn, and I let my eyes climb the tree outside the patio as they followed the plaintive calls to those offering their voices to the chill morning: a pair who had already built a nest in the outer branches.  This can help.

— — — — — — — — — —

Photos:

[1] Eastern phoebe (Sayornis phoebe)

[2] Wood duck (Aix sponsa), drake

[3] Red-shouldered hawk (Buteo lineatus), female

[4] Domestic greylag goose (Anser anser)

[5] Indian runner (a.k.a. Indian runner duck or runner; Anas platyrhynchos), domestic breed

[6] Carolina wren (Thryothorus ludovicianus)

[7] Great-tailed grackle (Quiscalus mexicanus), male

[8] Northern mockingbird (Mimus polyglottos), male

Nature’s handiwork

One need not look beyond nature’s own doing to find beautiful things, exquisite and lovely forms so picturesque that they must be the purest variety of art ever known.

A knot clinging to the base of an ancient colossal tree (20080224_02332)

A knot clinging to the base of an ancient colossal tree.

Morning thunderstorms moving in from the west (2008_12_27_003468)

Morning thunderstorms moving in from the west.

A ring-billed gull (Larus delawarensis) at sunset (2009_02_13_008424)

A ring-billed gull (Larus delawarensis) at sunset.

An American white pelican (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) landing on the water (2009_02_14_008604)

An American white pelican (Pelecanus erythrorhynchos) landing on the water.

A white fawnlily (a.k.a. white trout lily; Erythronium albidum) in dappled sunlight (2009_02_22_010626)

A white fawnlily (a.k.a. white trout lily; Erythronium albidum) in dappled sunlight.  (Yes, the flowers always lean down.)

Large, woolly vines grow on some of the larger trees around the lake (2009_03_07_012204)

Large, woolly mature poison ivy (Toxicodendron radicans) vines grow on some of the larger trees around the lake.

Shepherd’s purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) creates its own alien landscape (2009_03_07_012194)

Shepherd’s purse (Capsella bursa-pastoris) creates its own alien landscape.

A mallard drake (Anas platyrhynchos) rests at the base of a reed bed (2008_12_25_003334)

A mallard drake (Anas platyrhynchos) rests at the base of a reed bed.

put on your faces – introduction

Close-ups happen to be a favorite of mine.  Whether of The Kids or flowers or insects or animals or whatever, something deep inside me loves the intimate feel of an image that places the subject within reach, as though I became invisible and moved so close that my nose brushed against that which caught my eye.

Broader views can be fantastic, yes, and they bring the whole of something into focus—a great help with identifications, yet lens-to-life contact expresses to me the essence of a thing far better than other views.

Hence I found myself drawn to this poem by e.e. cummings:

put off your faces,Death:for day is over
(and such a day as must remember he
who watched unhands describe what mimicry,

with angry seasalt and indignant clover
marrying to themselves Life’s animals)

but not darkness shall quite outmarch forever
—and i perceive,within transparent walls
how several smoothly gesturing stars are clever
to persuade even silence:therefore wonder

opens a gate;the prisoner dawn embraces

hugely some few most rare perfectly dear
(and worlds whirl beyond worlds:immortal yonder
collidingly absorbs eternal near)

day being come,Love,put on your faces

Within its words raged the life of what I intend to share in this series.

So “put on your faces” and let life bestow in images what “marrying to themselves Life’s animals” our eyes can behold.

He sang to me in lesser times

What short moments we shared.

Before the sun pulled itself above the horizon on this very day, I stepped outside to the patio.

The lamentations of a feline called out into the morning hours with a sense of loneliness and lamentation, a frightened cry cast upon the cool air.

This new cat I had never seen before, his tortoiseshell coat calico in nature, a ginger tabby painted with black and white such that I knew he was sterile from the moment of birth.

And oh what a marvelous personality!  Loving, talkative, in need of human companionship, lost and alone.

Had he been cast out like so many others at White Rock Lake?  Or had he simply lost his way?

He spoke to me within seconds of seeing me, the voice of a predator who needs humans ringing in my ears as he wept his sorrow and pleaded his case.

I returned the attention, of course, gave him affection and food and water.

When finally the light of day spilled upon the world, I beheld his beauty as though I had never witnessed such majesty before.  A divine cat he was, a spectacle of nature painted with brushes diverse and artistic.

His personality likewise seemed made of nature’s best.

But he was declawed, at least in front, and he was sterilized, a need nature saw fit to address before he was born (male calicoes are genetically sterile, hence their rarity) and that his previous “owners” saw fit to endorse with cutting.

I spent quite some time with him over the course of hours.  He soaked up every minute of it, kissed me on the nose, gave me love bites, showed me the kind of attention one only finds in animals who love people.

And when I rushed out to run my errands and tend my chores?

I returned to find him dead, his body a castaway run over in the street outside my home, his ebullient persona left on cold concrete to mark the passing of a life too soon lost, an emotional being too wonderful to be misplaced.

I have seven cats.  What could I have done?

It only took an hour for me to witness the best and worst this one life might experience.

And I will never forgive myself…

Cataclysmic fault

In the very early morning hours yesterday, this site and many others suffered from a catastrophic hardware problem.

Rather, they succumbed to the finality of a problem that had been ongoing for quite some time.

Failing drive arrays be damned, the easiest way to explain it is to say this: The data storage failed after months of serving up increasingly bad results bundled in happy little boxes of completeness.

What that means is that all data on the server was lost.

Including this site amongst many others.

While I run regular backups of all the server’s information, this one apparently lied for quite some time by returning corruption wrapped up in good packets.

But I’m no technological fool.

Thankfully, when the entire server went belly-up yesterday, I had reliable information that allowed me to restore 99% of what was lost.

It’s that 1% that vexes me, as it’s that 1% that had been backed up for some time with corrupt data neatly packaged in unremarkable bits and bytes.

Still, it could have been worse.

Needless to say, this and many other sites are functioning at near-normal standards.  But there are hiccups and issues that must be addressed.

So I apologize for the outage yesterday while a new server was brought online and information restored.  I also apologize for any hiccups with this site that remain ongoing; they’ll be dealt with accordingly.

And while the old server had its limitations, the new one I purchased to replace it intentionally includes expanded capabilities that will allow me to do both offline and online backups at regular intervals.

Not that that means much to the layman.  But it means a great deal to me.

As for posts, I will get back to them as quickly as possible, but for now my focus is fixed in other directions—like returning full service to paying customers, returning all accounts to their pre-crash state, and ensuring this site finds its way back to functionality.

Various hiccups will be seen here over the next few days while I uninstall and reinstall services and systems, patches and code, and hopefully resolve the many yet minor outstanding problems resulting from yesterday’s crash.