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IU / photo / Thursday / Twitter / video — Comments Off on Figured something out today
7
May 20

Figured something out today

It started because of the cardinals. I was on my walk, because it was a run day and I didn’t want to run, so I took a walk, and on my walk I saw two cardinals. Fighting? Playing? Play fighting? Doing an intricate dance that tells the tale of their tribe? Anyway, there they were.

I got as close as possible, which is never close enough because I only had my phone on me. And the video is, well, it’s a phone video. But cardinals are awfully vivid and bold, aren’t they?

Shouldn’t that be a saying? It’s as good as “It is what it is.” It’s like saying you went to the grocery store and they had paper products, but not the soft good stuff, just some store-brand thing you’ve never seen before with a reasonably fine grit, in a pinch. “Hey, it’s a phone video.”

Anyway, the cardinals got me off the path and into the low brush and then I saw these flowers.

By then I’m down by the creek which will never not have a draw on me. And after a time walking on both sides of the creek I walked out of the woods, crunching leaves and snapping dead branches on the ground, and some guy who’s out walking his dog hears me and stops.

When I get close enough he says “Hunting for ‘shrooms?”

This is a question that’s a Rorschach Test, or maybe even just a straight up autobiographical clue. You tend to think people are doing what you’d be doing. Which is why I’d just assume that guy was down enjoying the rocks and the sounds of the creek. When, really, he’d be down there looking for mushrooms.

And then he walked away.

I’ve heard from friends who are looking for people to just interact with, and reading even more stories like that. This guy must not have that concern. Imagine craving human contact and, finding your chance, your first thought is to inquire about the fungi.

Best thing I did today? I got back into the yard from my walk and I decided to stretch out in the grass. The weather was nice and it’s almost starting to feel like it could soon become something of a constant. The grass is nice and lush. I pulled my hat over my eyes and my hands behind my head and closed my eyes and listened to the birds.

And, a little while later, I woke myself up with a little snore. The breeze was delightful. There were no insects to bother me. It was the perfect moment, stretched and compressed within a half hour or so. This is something that should happen more often, I think. And it’s all within reach. What an idea!

From work, students are sharing their graduation pictures. Cap and gown photos must be taken. That’s creating big crowds, from what I understand, in the traditional photo spots, even if they aren’t getting an actual ceremony. I feel for them about the latter, but the former is a concern. If only there was some way for people to learn the new rules of the road.

Social cues and overcoming instinct and habit are going to be a considerable issue going forward.

Meanwhile, at least two of my former students here have heard today that they were nominated for Emmys. That’s very exciting for anyone, but to be in there in year three of your career must be another thing altogether. And while they deserve all the credit because of the quality of their work, we can only rightfully assume it was our instruction that got them there.

I interviewed an epidemiologist today. It’ll be a podcast tomorrow. And also some video clips for television, which meant more time playing in new software. There’s always something new to learn. This is something that people should say more often, I think.

It was a fine interview with important information and it felt productive. That’s a win.

More on Twitter, check me out on Instagram and listen to a few On Topic with IU podcasts as well.

photo / Tuesday — Comments Off on This weather
5
May 20

This weather

These are highly variable days, if the variation you seek is gray and damp and cold, then this is the time for you. The time for this, alas, is not May.

… 7, 8, 9, 10 …

There. All better now. Anyway, as I so often say, now apparently a full six months out of the year, Michigan has one job: Keep Canada in Canada.

And for six months of the year Michigan is lousy at its job.

For the record, the first snowfall this past year was on Halloween. I’m still running an electric blanket 186 days later just to knock down the chill in the bedroom at night. Such that, when my lovely bride retires to the bedroom before me she asks if I would like it if she turned on the blanket on my side of the bed. “No, but thank you,” I say. While thinking “It is, after all, May.”

And then I retire to the bedroom later, after working on this or that or typing away at this or that or just staring at the wall and discover it is cold bordering on silly in the bedroom and I go to sleep with the blanket on the third highest setting.

In, once again, May.

We said in March, “Ya know, if you have to stay at home and stay inside, at least this is the time of year to do it.” Sitting at home calculating the scant few hours of gray not-night probably would summon ill spirits. We lost out on the end of the school year, saying goodbye to a crop of students, and we’re losing spring because ‘Thanks, Michigan’ and a lot of the early long days because of the weather. And those senses of loss, big and small, will somehow compound upon themselves. These aren’t the really important things we’re losing, loses which will be a burr in the psyche for the entire age, I fear.

Forty degrees in May is plenty enough, thanks, is what I’m saying.

Not enough degrees. You know what I mean.

Anyway, we went on a walk, and I wore a jacket in May. Here are three photos.

It rained this morning:

And these raindrops are marching off to … somewhere else in the cycle of life, I’m sure. They’ll be absorbed by the plant and turned into something a blade will come along and cut down sooner or later.

Or an animal will come along and knock the droplets into the soil where it will eventually seep in ever smaller bits and drips until it joins the water table and follows the natural path to a nearby stream.

Or it will evaporate.

Do you think raindrops — the ones you assign personality to, I mean — have any thoughts on that when they’re up in the clouds? I bet it’s a lot of “I’m excited to see where I land this time!” It’d be better than worrying about it. “I’m going to land in a dog bowl again, I just know it.”

Sometimes I see a raindrop on a leaf or a flower and I wonder. It’s a childlike thing, I suppose. Intellectually, I know the whole system is basically devoted to capture, but when you see it like this the engineer in you has to wonder about efficiency.

There’s going to be more seasonal inappropriate wardrobe choices over much of the next two weeks. And then, of course, suddenly it will be summer.

Monday / photo — Comments Off on Hindsight and forethought
4
May 20

Hindsight and forethought

So, just getting it out of the way, it’s May and dreary and cold. And it’s going to be that way for days. So that’s something to look forward to, wearing jackets and turning on electric blankets in May.

The cats are doing just fine. Phoebe enjoyed the sun on Friday. Discovering the west-facing windows has been a big boon in our house:

Poseidon found a nice evening perch recently and he would like you to know that space above kitchen cabinets is definitely a preferred design treatment:

We found a really lovely flowering dogwood on today’s walk. It sits in a lot of shade, which may be why it’s a little late to the party, but that just makes the blooming party last longer:

Now that I look at this photograph, here, I think I should have paid more attention to this tree out there:

That’s the way of it, isn’t it? Hindsight and forethought.

cycling / Friday / photo / podcast / video — Comments Off on It’s gonna be …
1
May 20

It’s gonna be …

Time for a bike ride, and since we went in the late afternoon and we headed generally north and east that means it’s time for a shadooooooow sellllllfie …

It was also the day for me to go the wrong way because I got the roads confused and The Yankee had to chase me down which was no easy feat today because I had good legs and yet she managed to eventually do it anyway because I looked over my shoulder and saw the look on her face and then sat up and, yes, run-on sentences do happen a lot in cycling. It has something to do with the breathing, I think.

So we turned around and went the right direction, determined to not speak of this again. It only added on one extra mile, so she didn’t have to chase me far, because she is a strong rider, but my legs held up throughout the day. This is what’s important, look at that water:

There were people fishing on the causeway as we went through. Everyone is ready to enjoy some nice weather, which we’ve only had it intermittently here. That’s a crime against humanity, I’m pretty sure.

Anyway, that’s just after the big downhill, which one app tracked me at 134.4 miles per hour. I was not going 134.4 miles per hour. That’d be very fast, indeed, and I think the app is wrong in a lot of ways, begging the question: Why?

So you go down the descent then you take a hard left and you find yourself on a road that you can somehow hit 25-27 miles per hour without even pedaling. Then there’s the water and that’s when she caught me:

And then the climb out. This is where our barn by bike feature of the day comes in, and, yes, that is an uphill and not a camera tilt trick:

Is there a video? There is a video. On this particular route the video is from the last smooth, easy part before the hard part, and before the water.

It would be tempting to rush through here and attack the long series of rollers that turn into an uphill before the long downhill and the next eventual climb. It’d be fun to turn this into a bunch of big sweeping sines, as Bill Strickland called them:

I was riding in long, gradual curves that stretched nearly from the right shoulder of the road out to and sometimes past the yellow line on the left, then back and out and again the same.

[…]

The sine curve to me is more of an undulation, an expression of the natural beauty of movement, and the beauty of natural movement: a lover’s body in moments of passion beyond thought, for instance.

Or a bicycle rider in one of those rare interludes when the pure sheer pleasure of being a bicycle rider can be expressed only through an extended series of line-to-line swoops. The road sine is one of the most spontaneous and unsophisticated acts of cycling, and it begins and occurs and continues in some kind of complete state of unexamined and unself-conscious motion.

Bill Strickland is a brilliant writer and I love that description. I do it all the time on the bike. I always think of that passage when I do.

But never right here; never at the fence.

Somehow, I always find myself doing that other ultimate sign of freedom. I get to just the right spot on that road, just ahead of us here, and let it go and coast. I’ll float almost as far as momentum and enthusiasm will take me. And then start working my way uphill.

Talked with Tom Duszynski again, because the world needs to hear from epidemiologists and I’m part of the world and I want to give learned and thoughtful people a place to speak to people who want to hear real things and not bombast.

Wash your hands. And if you’re out on a bike or out on a trail or just in the backyard, have a great weekend.

photo / Thursday — Comments Off on Putting April behind us
30
Apr 20

Putting April behind us

And we’re wrapping up this month with a few more leftover photos from the big camera. Because it’s been that kind of week, and we’re ready to move on through it to the next week which will, no doubt, feel decidedly better for reasons that have nothing to do with any discernible, tangible reason, but nevertheless.

Today marks the beginning of my eighth week of work-from-home. And I’m very fortunate, lucky, privileged and blessed. All of those descriptors apply. But the last few days, nevertheless, have brought on a certain gauzy meh. Tomorrow I’m going to change it up, apply a shock to the system, create some momentum and power through. It’ll be great!

I just had to work through this little bit, and a lot of us did. A lot of people also didn’t have the luxury of it that I’ve had and I’m more than aware of all of that. Grace and patience were my two words at the beginning. I hope I’ve practiced that as it pertains to others, and this week I’m applying it to myself. Next week, all systems go.

Anyway, a few photos. This one is definitely getting used again, probably:

I took this one, and re-sized it and put it here, just because I love what a proper camera can do with the depth of field. My phone’s camera won’t do that. Yet.

Flower budding from a tree? Have to take a picture of that. It’s the rule.

And I will see you all tomorrow, next month, May.

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